}\o  v  £- 


Mr 


'/  a  ^JiXZZa 


<34^o-z>-^t 


aT 


V 


/ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  '2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/maplehillorauntlOOamer 


^m 


MAPLE  HILL; 


OB 


AUNT    LUCY'S    STORIES 


The  lipa  of  the  righteous  feed  many."— Peovebbs  x.  21- 


HI 


American  Tract  Society, 

1 50  NASSAU  STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1862,  by 

The  American  Tract  Society, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of 

Massachusetts. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  Aunt   Lucy,  and  why   she    never 

Married 5 

II.  Maple  Hill  Nursery         .        .        .17 

III.  Respect  for  the  Aged. — The  Story 

of  Sally  Brown     .        .        .        .28 

IV.  Kindness  to  the  Poor.  —  The  Story 

of  Old  Karl 48 

V.  Tale-Bearing.  —  The  Story  of  Bir- 

sey,  the  Tattler    .        .        .        .61 
VI.   Good  Nature.  —  The  Baby's  Tooth    73 
VII.  Trust  and   Cheerfulness.  —  Hunt- 

'  ing  for  Stars 85 

VIII.  Bitter  Words.  --  The  Story  of  Lit- 
tle Kitty         .  .    97 


MAPLE  HILL 
CHAPTER  L 

AUNT  LUCY,  AND  WHY  SHE  NEVER  MARRIED. 

"What  is  an  old  maid ?  "  asked  little  seven- 
years-old  Bessie,  one  day,  of  her  mother. 

"  What  put  that  question  into  your  mind 
just  now,  my  love  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Carrol, 
with  a  smile. 

"  Why,  Bridget  says  Aunt  Lucy  is  an  old 
maid ;  and  that,  when  she  comes,  we  shall 
have  to  walk  on  tiptoe,  and  not  be  able  to 
play  at  all  in  the  house,"  replied  Bessie. 

"  How  does  Bridget  know  that  ?  "  asked 
the  mother. 

"  She  says  old  maids  are  always  cross,  and 
hate  children,"  said -Bessie,  with  a  mournful 
face. 


6  MAPLE  HILL. 

"  Bridget  is  quite  mistaken,  my  dear. 
There  is  not  a  kinder  heart  in  the  world 
than  Aunt  Lucy's." 

"  But  what  do  people  be  old  maids  for, 
mother  dear  ?  "  asked  the  child. 

"  Because  God  in  his  providence  makes 
them  so ;  just  as  he  makes  others  wives  and 
mothers." 

-"  But  what  do  people  mean  by  *  old 
maids  '  ?  "   asked   Bessie. 

"It  is  a  rude  name  for  ladies  who  have 
spent  their  youth  without  being  married," 
replied  the  mother. 

"  Well,  that's  no  harm,  is  it,  mother  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Bessie." 

"  Is  my  teacher,  Miss  Morse,  an  old 
maid  ? " 

"  Bude  and  heartless  people  would  call  her 
so,"  replied  Mrs.  Carrol. 

"  And  my  Sunday-school  teacher,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  then,  I  don't  think  it  can  be  such  a 


AUNT  LUCY.  7 

dreadful  thing,  after  all,  to  be  an  old  maid ! 
Neither  Miss  Morse  nor  Miss  Lake  are  cross, 
and  I'm  very  sure  they  don't  hate  children," 
said  Bessie. 

"  They  are  both  noble  and  lovable  women, 
my  child,"  said  her  mother ;  "  and  as  God  has 
laid  less  care  on  them  than  on  your  mother, 
they  are  able  to  do  more  good  to  the  little 
ones  who  have  no  mothers.  Your  Aunt  Lucy 
has  spent  her  youth  and  lost  her  beauty  in 
watching  beside  the  sick-bed  of  my  parents. 
After  my  sweet  mother  died,  my  poor  father 
was  ill  a  long  time.  He  was  very  aged,  and 
so  childish  that  he  was  a  constant  care.  But 
no  one  ever  heard  Aunt  Lucy  complain  of 
weariness  or  confinement  in  all  those  years. 
When  our  father  died,  she  mourned  for  him  as 
deeply  as  if  he  had  been  her  strong  protector 
instead  of  her  helpless  charge." 

"  And  does  she  bear  with  little  children, 
mother,  as  well  as  with  old  people  ?  "  asked 


8  MAPLE  HILL. 

"  She  does  more  than  bear  with  them,  my 
dear.  She  loves  them,  and  is  always  doing 
something  to  make  the  poor  children  around 
her  happy.  But  you  will  soon  see  for  your- 
self what  kind  of  a  lady  she  is.  When  we 
invited  her  to  live  with  us,  after  the  old  home- 
stead is  sold,  it  was  as  much  for  your  sake  as 
for  our  own.  She  is  such  good  company,  that 
your  father  used  to  say,  'The  sun  always 
shines  where  Lucy  is ;  •  so  also  grandpa,  when 
he  missed  her  from  his  room,  would  ask, 
'  Does  it  rain  ?  *  When  told  that  it  did  not, 
he  would  say,  '  I  missed  the  sunshine ' ! " 

"  How  soon  will  it  be  the  tenth  of  the 
month,  mother  ?  "  asked  the  little  girl.  "  I 
wish  it  were  to-morrow,  so  that  I  could  see 
Aunt  Lucy." 

"  You  will  see  her,  I  hope,  in  &ree  days, 
my  love.  On  Thursday  morning  you  and  I 
will  arrange  her  room  as  nicely  as  we  can, 
and  then  ride  down  to  the  station  for  her." 

"  Mother,"  asked  Bessie,  "  do  you  think 


AUNT  LUCY.  9 

Aunt  Lucy  knows  any  stories  ?     I  nave  yours 
all  by  heart  now." 

"  0  Bessie,"  cried  Mrs.  Carrol,  "  I  forgot 
to  tell  you  that  she  is  the  very  queen  of  story- 
tellers !  When  we  were  children  at  home, 
as  you  three  are  now,  she,  being  the  oldest, 
used  to  relate  us  the  most  interesting  stones 
I  ever  heard.  If  we  were  good  at  home  and 
faithful  at  school,  our  reward  from  this  loving 
sister  was  a  story.  Our  nursery  in  the  old 
square  homestead  had  a  broad  open  fireplace. 
We  children,  nine  in  number,  used  to  gather 
there  at  nightfall,  and  form  a  circle  around 
the  blazing  logs, —  for  we  wanted  no  other 
light,  —  and  listen  to  her  tales.  Then  we 
used  to  sing  together,  and  sometimes  tell  anec- 
dotes and  guess  riddles.  Thus  we  spent  an 
hour  after  tea.  Then  the  three  boys  younger 
than  Lucy  went  down  stairs  to  their  books, 
and  Lucy  would  put  us  to  bed,  and,  holding 
Dur  little  hands  in  her  .own^  hear  our  evening 
prayers.     Then  she  would  give  us  a  sweet 


10  MAPLE  HILL. 

kiss,  and  go  down-stairs  to  sew  for  us  long 
after  we  were  fast  asleep.  She  is  still  the 
same  sweet  unselfish  creature,  although  forty- 
fivo  years  of  toil  and  anxiety  have  passed 
away." 

"  Mother,  you  always  put  us  to  bed,  and 
hear  our  prayers,  and  tell  us  stories,  why  did- 
n't your  mother  do  so  for  her  children,  instead 
of  Aunt  Lucy  ?  " 

"  Because,  my  love,  she  was  a  very  feeble 
woman,  and  in  those  days  always  had  a  young 
babe  that  required  her  care  at  that  hour.  It 
?vas  a  great  blessing  to  her  as  well  as  to  us 
that  God  gave  such  a  sweet  child  and  sister  as 
Lucy.  Do  you  wonder  I  love  her  now,  Bes- 
sie ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Carrol. 

"  No  indeed,  mother  dear  ;  and  even  if  she 
should  be  a  little  bit  cross,  I  mean  to  love  her 
too  for  being  so  kind  to  my  dear  mother  when 
she  was  a  little  girl,"  said  Bessie. 

Mrs.  Carrol  smiled  at  her  affectionate  child, 
and   said,  "  I'm  not  at   all   afraid  but  you'll 


AUNT  LUCY  11 

love  her  for  her  own  sake,  Bessie.  She  is  one 
of  those  who  carry  their  welcome  in  their 
smile." 

"  I  mean  to  tell  Ned  and  Jennie  all  you 
have  said,  just  as  soon  as  they  come  home 
from  school,"  said  Bessie.  "It  will  make 
them  happy,  I  know ;  for  although  they  both 
told  me  she  was  a  very  good  Auntie,  I  could 
see,  mother,  that  they  were  a  little  afraid  of 
her,  because  she  was  an  old  maid.  You  know 
Neddie  took  down  the  swing  we  had  in  the 
garret  yesterday." 

"  Why  was  that,  my  love  ?  "  asked  the 
mother. 

At  this  moment  the  children  entered. 

"  Oh,  here  you  are  home  again,  little  dears. 
I  was  just  asking  Bessie  -  why  you  took  your 
swing  down,  Neddie." 

"  Because  it  was  right  over  Aunt  Lucy's 
chamber,  and  he  was  afraid  it  might  worry  her 
to  hear  our  feet  on  the  floor  "  replied  Bessie. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  know  that  my  dear  bov 


12  MAPLE  HILL. 

was  so  thoughtful  and  so  polite.  It  is  always 
proper  to  regard  the  comforts  of  others,  es- 
pecially of  guests ;  and  one  who  does  such  a 
delicate  act  of  kindness  when  only  nine  years 
old,  will  surely  make  a  gentleman  when  he 
grows  up.  I  think  dear  Neddie  is  trying  to 
fulfill  the  law  of  love  about  which  you  have 
been  studying.     Come  here,  my  boy." 

"  Will  auntie  have  to  be  an  old  maid  always, 
mother?"  asked  Bessie.  "Now  that  grand- 
ma and  grandpa  are  gone,  and  she  is  not 
needed  in  your  home,  I  should  think  she 
might  get  married ;  and  then  she  couldn't  be 
called  an  old  maid  any  more." 

"My  love,"  replied  Mrs.  Carrol,  "your 
aunt  has  not  the  least  objection  to  being 
called  thus.  She  would  but  laugh  at  it.  It 
is  only  silly  women,  who,  having  grown  old, 
rebel  against  what  is  the  lot  of  all,  —  who  try, 
by  girlish  airs  and  youthful  dress,  to  appear 
young  still,  that  take  offense  at  mention  of 
this.     Still  it  is  very  rude  and  unkind  to  al- 


AUNT  LUCY.  13 

hide  to  their  situation,  because  we  may  wound 
their  feelings  without  knowing  it." 

"  How,  mother  ?  "  asked  Jennie. 

"  Why,  my  love,  we  do  not  know  what  lies 
buried  in  their  hearts.  Almost  every  maiden 
lady  I  ever  knew  had  some  sad  reason  locked 
up  in  her  bosom  for  walking  alone  through 
life." 

"  What  is  Miss  Morse's  secret,  mother  ?  " 
asked  Bessie. 

"  Well,  my  love,  if  I  could  be  sure  neither 
of  you  would  ever  mention  it  among  the  schol- 
ars, I  would  tell  you." 

"  We  never  will,  mother ;  for  we  would  not 
grieve  her  for  anything,"  said  Jennie. 

"  Well,  dears,  eleven  years  ago,  —  Jennie, 
it  was  when  you  were  a  tiny  .baby,  —  Mary 
Morse  lived  in  the  large  house  opposite  us, 
and  was  thought  by  all  her  friends  to  be  an 
heiress.  She  was  about  to  be  married,  and 
had  her  wedding-dress  all  ready  ;  when,  to 
the  astonishment  of  everybody,  her   father 


14  MAPLE  HILL. 

failed  in  business.  It  was  through  the  rash 
ness  of  his  partner  rather  than  for  any  fault 
of  his  own  ;  but  he  was  so  honorable  and  con- 
scientious, that  he  gave  up  his  own  personal 
property  to  his  creditors,  and  began  life  again 
as  a  clerk  in  the  very  store  where  he  had 
made  his  fortune.*  He  was  not  ashamed  to  do 
so,  and  probably  never  dreamed  that  any  body 
would  be  ashamed  of  him  ;  but  he  was  mis 
taken  there.  People  who  esteemed  the  fam- 
ily expressed  their  pleasure  that  Mary  was  so 
soon  to  have  a  fine  home  into  which  she  could 
receive  the  family.  But,  dear  children,  al- 
though the  wedding-day  was  set,  and  the  wed- 
ding-ring bought,  poor  Mary  never  saw  the 
faithless  young  man  she  expected  to  marry, 
until  a  whole  year  had  passed  away ! "  • 

"  What  had  become  of  him  ?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  He  was  at  home,  only  ten  miles  off;  but 
when  he  knew  there  was  no  money  coming  to 
Mary,  he  cared  no  more  for  her ;  and  at  the 
end  of  the  year,  when  the  creditors  took  pos- 


AUNT  LUCY.  15 

session  of  the  estate,  he  actually  took  his 
bride  there  to  look  at  it,  and  bought  it  at  the 
auction !  Now,  darlings,  do  you  not  think  it 
would  be  cruel  to  make  any  remark  to  Miss 
Morse  which  should  bring  all  this  back  to  her 
mind  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  mother,"  said  Jennie. 

"  Why  did  not  Aunt  Lucy  marry  ?  "  asked 
Ned. 

"  For  the  simple  reason,  my  boy,  that  she 
chose  to  live  single.  In  her  girlhood,  she  de- 
voted herself  to  her  brothers  and  sisters,  and 
in  maturer  years,  to  her  aged  parents.  Was- 
n't that  noble  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  it  was,"  replied  Jennie. 

"  Miss  Morse  and  your  \ Aunt  Lucy  are  not 
ashamed  of  their  years,"  said  Mrs.  Carrol. 
"  Nobody  ever  saw  them  painting  their  faces 
to  deceive  people,  but  they  have  learned  the 
rare  and  beautiful  art,  how  to  '  grow  old 
gracefully.'  Do  you  understand  that,  Jennie 
and  Ned  ? " 


16  MAPLE  HILL. 

"  Certainly,  dear  mother,"  replied  the  eld- 
est  little  girl ;  "  and  I  am  quite  impatient  to 
see  dear  auntie." 

"  There  is  the  dinner-bell,"  cried  Ned, 
springing  up  and  clapping  his  hands.  And 
with  the  appetite  which  fresh  air  and  bright 
spirits  bring,  they  bounded  out  to  the  gate  to 
meet  their  father,  whom  they  saw  from  the 
window. 

"  Oh,  pa,  we  are  so  happy  about  Aunt 
Lucy's  coming  to  live  with  us  !  "  cried  Jennie. 
"  Mother  has  just  been  telling  us  all  about 
her." 

"  Good  friends  are  a  great  blessing,  my 
dears,"  said  the  father ;  "  and  your  aunt  is  a 
lovely  woman  and  a  devoted  Christian.  If 
you  desire  to  know  and  love  God,  you  will  find 
her  a  great  help  to  you.  She  has  had  a  hard 
life,  but  no  one  would  ever  learn  it  from  her, 
— she  is  always  so  bright  and  cheerful.  God's 
will  is  her  will ;  so  she  sees  no  cause  for  mur- 
muring." 


MAPLE  HILL  NURSERY.  17 


CHAPTER  IL 

MAPLE   HILL   NURSERY. 

Thursday  morning  dawned  bright  and 
clear,  and  the  little  Carrols  were  up  with 
the  larks.  While  their  mother  was  busied 
with  her  morning  duties,  the  children  cut 
baskets  full  of  flowers,  with  which  to  deco- 
rate the  chamber  of  the  dear  expected  guest. 
They  were  allowed  the  privilege  of  doing  this 
themselves,  according  to  their  own  taste ;  so 
while  the  little  white  fingers  of  Bessie  were 
busy  over  the  vases,  Jennie^  was  festooning  the 
white  muslin  curtains  with  roses,  and  looping 
them  up  with  garlands  of  flowers.  Childlike, 
they  fancied  the  more  they  trimmed  the  furni- 
ture the  finer  it  would  appear  ;  so,  every  con- 
ceivable nook  and  corner  was  made  to  hold  a 
vase  or  goblet,  and  every  glass  or  picture  to 


18  MAPLE  HILL. 

bear  a  wreath.  Their  mother  was  surprised 
at  the  neatness  and  skill  with  which  the  work 
was  accomplished  ;  and  when  called  up  to 
give  her  opinion  of  it,  said,  "  I  really  think 
you  have  been  partial  to  your  aunt !  How 
would  you  like  to  transfer  a  few  bouquets 
and  wreaths  to  my  room,  and  thus  give  dear 
father  a  surprise  when  he  goes  up-stairs  to- 
night ?  " 

The  children  thought  this  a  charming  idea, 
and,  as  it  was  nearly  their  school-hour, 
gave  their  mother  leave  to  take  out  as 
many  of  their  decorations  as  she  thought 
could  be  spared  from  Auntie's  room  for  her 
own. 

Mrs.  Carrol  was  too  wise  a  woman  to  crowd 
the  brains  of  her  young  children  with  every 
study  taught  in  schools,  caring  far  more  to 
have  them  strong  than  "  forward,"  as  many 
wise  children  are  called.  Bessie  had  been  at 
school  one  term  ;  but  not  being  well,  her 
parents  kept  her  at  home  now,   where  she 


MAPLE  HILL  NURSERY.  19 

studied  one  hour  with  her  mother,  and  the 
rest  of  the  day  with  the  birds  and  flowers. 
How  sweet  those  lessons  were !  All  nature, 
whether  animate  or  inanimate,  has  lessons  for 
man,  and  these  her  mother  explained  to  her. 
When  Bessie  pointed  to  an  ant-hill,  with  its 
thousand  little  toilers,  and  stepped  aside  rather 
than  crush  them,  her  mother  would  say, 
"  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain 
mercy ; "  and  remind  her  how  the  wise  man 
bids  the  sluggard  go  to  the  little  ant  to  learn 
her  ways  and  be  wise.  When  she  came  in  with 
delight  to  say  that  the  lilies  had  blossomed,  she 
was  taught  to  repeat  the  sweet  words  of  Jesus 
to  his  anxious  disciples :  "  Consider  the  lilies  of 
the  field,  how  they  grow,  they  toil  not,  neither 
do  they  spin;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that 
even  Solomon,  in  all  his  glory,  was  not  ar- 
rayed like  one  of  these.  Wherefore  if  God 
so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  which  to-day 
is,  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  shall 
he  not  much  more  clothe  you  ?  "     Thus,  al- 


20  MAPLE   HILL. 

though  little  Bessie  did  not  go  to  school,  she 
was  gaining  every  day  both  health  and  wis- 
dom. 

Well,  on  this  lovely  spring  morning  when 
all  was  in  order  at  home,  and  Ned  and  Jennie 
had  gone  to  school,  Mrs.  Carrol  had  u  Billy 
Gray"  harnessed  into  the  family  carriage, 
and  she  and  Bessie  went  to  meet  Aunt  Lucy 
at  the  railway  station. 

When  the  whizzing  and  rattling  of  the  train 
were  heard  in  the  distance,  they  both  stood 
upon  the  platform  looking  up  the  road  to  catch 
the  first  sight  of  its  approach.  Mrs.  Carrol 
felt  very  sad,  for  she  realized  that  the  pleasure 
she  expected  was  only  obtained  by  the  death 
of  her  beloved  parents ;  and  that  in  Aunt 
Lucy's  leaving  the  homestead,  it  was  closed 
for  ever'  as  her  home,  Bessie  looked  a  little 
3ad  too,  for  she  was  not  yet  quite  sure  that 
she  should  be  pleased  with  her  aunt,  although 
well  convinced  that  she  was  very  good.  But 
little  hearts  ask  more  than  this ;  they  expect 


MAPLE  HILL  NURSERY.  21 

their  friends  to  be  also  kind  and  genial  in  their 
manners. 

When  the  cars  stopped,  Bessie  looked  among 
the  passengers  for  a  tall,  gaunt,  homely  lady 
in  deep  mourning ;  but  she  looked  in  vain.  In 
a  moment,  however,  she  saw  her  mother  throw 
her  arms  around  the  neck  of  quite  a  different- 
looking  person.  Mrs.  Carrol  could  not  speak, 
for  the  tears  which  fell  fast  choked  her  voice. 
But  Aunt  Lucy  spoke  in  a  low,  sweet,  tone, 
smiling  through  her  tears,  and  asked,  "  Is  this 
my  little  Bessie,  whom  I  named  for  grand- 
ma?" The  little  girl  kissed  her,  and  felt,  as 
she  looked  in  her  fair  face,  as  if  she  had  known 
her  always. 

While  they  are  riding  honie,  we  will  tell  the 
young  reader  how  Miss  Thorne  did  look.  She 
was  short  and  plump,  with  a  face  which  was 
made  to  smile.  Her  eyes  were  of  no  partic- 
ular color,  but  so  clear  and  deep  that  you 
could  see  the  very  heart  through  them,  and 
know  that  all  was  sincere  within.     In  youth, 


22  MAPLE  HILL. 

she  had  been  handsome,  and  now,  although 
the  clear  complexion  was  marred  by  time,  and 
the  brow  lined  by  a  few  wrinkles,  still  the  rose 
bloomed  on  her  cheek;  and  her  fine  teeth, 
which  she  displayed  freely  every  time  she 
smiled,  gave  her  such  a  happy,  cheerful  ex- 
pression that,  but  for  her  bright  gray  curls, 
one  might  almost  have  believed  her  yet  a 
girl. 

Oh,  what  delight  the  Carrol  children  had 
in  listening  to  the  conversation  of  their  aunt 
and  mother,  about  the  people  and  the  scenes 
of  by-gone  days !  Before  bed-time  came,  on 
the  first  evening  after  Miss  Thome's  arrival, 
the  children  had  ail  decided  that  it  was 
the  finest  thing  in  the  world  to  have  an  aunt 
to  live  with  them.  Ned  remarked,  that  hav- 
ing Auntie  there,  was  "  like  having  company 
all  the  time." 

"  Auntie,"  said  little  Bessie,  "  mother  called 
you  the  '  queen  of  story-tellers ; '  she  says  the 
most  interesting  she  ever  heard  were  those  you 


MAPLE  HILL  NURSERY.  23 

used  to  tell  by  the  nursery  fire  when  she  was 
little.  I  suppose  you've  forgotten  them  all 
now,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  indeed,  darling,"  cried  Aunt 
Lucy ;  "  my  memory  is  too  good  for  that ! " 

"  How  I  wish  we  could  hear  one  of  the 
very  stories  you  used  to  tell  your  brothers 
and  sisters  !  "  said  Ned. 

"  0  Ned,  they  would  not  sound  the  same  to 
us  as  they  did  to  ma,  in  the  fire-light,  with  old 
Mark  Antony  the  watch-dog  and  Cleopatra 
the  house-cat  snoring  and  purring  on  the  rug, 
and  so  many  children  gathered  round  them," 
replied  Jennie. 

"  Don't  your  dog  and  cat  snore  and  purr  ?  " 
asked  Auntie,  in  a  tone  sc>  amusing  that  the 
children  all  laughed. 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  we  have  no  hearth-rug  with 
a  meeting-house  on  it  for  them  to  lie  on,  no 
wood-fire  to  light  the  room,  no  shining  brass 
andirons  to  see  our  faces  in,  broader  than 
they  are  long,"  said  Jennie. 


24  MAPLE  HILL. 

"  I'm  not  sure  about  that,"  said  Aunt  Lucys 
looking  very  wise.  "  We  shall  see,  after  I  gex 
rested  from  my  journey.  Let  us  thank  God, 
darlings,  that  he  has  preserved  us  all  to  meet 
here  in  your  sweet  home.  I  don't  know  of 
a  greater  blessing  any  one  can  have  in  after- 
life, than  the  memory  of  a  happy  home  in 
childhood.  I  often  sit  at  my  work  for  hours 
thinking  over  the  days  of  my  childhood  on 
Maple  Hill,  and  find  a  sweet  relief  from  present 
care  and  trouble.  I  would  not  have  those 
scenes  and  the  sweet  faces  that  mingle  with 
them  blotted  out  for  all  the  money  old  Billy 
Gray  could  draw." 

"  Well,  Auntie,  when  you  do  get  rested 
enough  to  tell  us  stories,  will  you  let  me  invite 
Hattie  Baxter  and  her  brother  Joe  in  to  hear 
them  ?     They  have  no  mother,"  said  Jennie. 

"  Indeed  I  will,  my  love,"  replied  Aunt- 
Lucy. 

"  And  perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Carrol,  who  had 
been  listening  in  silence,  "  you  will  also  admit 


MAPLE  HELL  NURSERY.  25 

mother  and  me.  That  would  be  almost  as 
large  an  audience  as  you  used  to  have  at 
Maple  Hill." 

"  Oh,  I'll  let  you  all  in,"  said  Aunt  Lucy 
in  a  merry  voice.  "  I  think  I  shall  have  to 
call  my  room  '  the  nursery.'  " 

"  But,  father,  I'm  afraid,  if  you  and  mother 
are  there,  the  stories  will  be  too  wise  for  us  ; 
I'm  sure  Bessie  won't  understand  them,"  Jen- 
nie said. 

"  0  mother,  hear  that ! "  cried  Bessie.  "  I 
guess  I  can  understand  a  good  deal ;  can't  I, 
mother  ?  " 

"  Indeed  you  can,  my  love.  Auntie  can 
tell  stories  which  will  suit  us  all.  I've  often 
thought  that  you  are  interested  in  the  same 
books  which  please  Jennie  and  Ned."    . 

"  Yes,"  replied  Bessie  gravely,  "  and  I 
never  care  for  stories  that  begin, '  Once  upon 
a  time.'  I  like  sensible  talk  as  well  as  other 
foik3,  if  I  am  little  ;  don't  I,  mother  ?  " 

"Yes,  dear,  you  do,"  replied  Mrs.  Carrol, 


26  MAPLE  HILL. 

while  the  rest  all  laughed  heartily  at  the  little 
girl's  earnest  defense  of  her  own  powers  of 
comprehension. 

"  Well,  Pet,"  said  Aunt  Lucy,  "  if  you  don't 
understand  the  first,  I  will  tell  one  on  purpose 
for  you ! " 

"  But  I  can  understand,  Auntie,"  persisted 


"  So  you  can,  dear,"  said  her  mother. 
"  You  know  and  love  many  things  which  wise 
men  turn  away  from  and  of  which  they  die  in 
ignorance." 

Friday  and  Saturday  passed  and  nothing 
more  had  been  said  about  Aunt  Lucy's  stories, 
and  these  children  were  too  good  to  tease  and 
worry  about  any  pleasure  which  had  been 
promised  them.  They  noticed  that  their  aunt 
and  mother  seemed  very  busy  up-stairs  on 
Saturday  afternoon ;  and  that  they  had  some 
subject  of  conversation  which  they  chose  to 
keep  to  themselves.  So  they  asked  no  ques- 
tions, feeling  quite  sure  that  if  it  were  prop- 


MAPLE  HILL  NURSERY.  27 

er  for  them  to  do  so,  they  should  soon  hear 
all  about  it.  How  happy  such  children  can 
make  a  whole  family !  Obedience  and  re- 
spect win  the  love  of  all,  and  are  pleasing 
to  the  Holy  One  who  gives  to  children  their 
home  and  their  friends. 


\ 


38  MAPLE  HILL. 


CHAPTER  III. 

RESPECT   FOB   THE   AGED. — THE    STORY     »» 
SALLY   BROWN. 

A  cold  summer  rain  was  falling,  and  the 
east  wind  blowing  without.  After  tea  and 
lessons  were  over  on  Monday  evening,  Aunt 
Lucy  said,  "  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  see  any 
one  who  wants  to  hear  a  story  in  my  cham- 
ber now." 

Ned  caught  his  cap,  and  darted  off  to  in- 
vite their  little  motherless  neighbors,  the  Bax- 
ters, and  Jennie  and  Bessie  waited  his  return 
at  the  front  door.  When  they  arrived,  they  all 
went  up,  and,  as  polite  children  will  always  do 
before  entering  a  private  apartment,  knocked 
at  the  door.  Aunt  Lucy  opened  it  herself; 
and  with  a  pleasant  smile  said,  "  Walk  in, 
little  folks,  to  the  old  nursery  of  Maple  Hill!" 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.  25 

The  Carrol  children  looked  amazed,  hardly 
knowing  where  they  were.  The  fire-board  — 
they  had  forgotten  that  there  was  an  open 
fireplace  in  the  house — had  been  removed, 
and  there,  supported  on  great  brass  andirons, 
were  sticks  of  wood  burning  brightly,  sizzling, 
roaring,  and  sending  up  sparks  in  a  way  to 
surprise  as  well  as  to  cheer  modern  children  on 
a  night  like  this.  On  the  mantle-piece  towered 
up  tall  candlesticks,  in  which  candles  were 
burning.  Little  chairs  and  stools  were  placed 
around  the  fire,  and  on  these  Auntie  asked  her 
guests  to  be  seated.  What  was  their  amaze- 
ment to  behold  the  very  rug,  which  they  knew 
by  the  description  used  to  lie  before  Ifche  fire 
at  Maple  Hill ;  and  on  it — looking  not  a  little 
surprised  by  this  attention  —  Pompey  and 
Grizzle ! 

Mrs.  Carrol  soon  explained  that  the  old  rug 
came  round  an  article  of  furniture  which  was 
sent  her  from  her  early  home ;  and  that  she 
borrowed  the  andirons  and  candlesticks. 


60  MAPLE  HILL. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  the  kind  aunt,  "  I  am 
ready  to  tell  you  one  of  my  stories.  It  will 
be  rather  hard  to  interest  two  such  wise  folks 
as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Carrol,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  please  little  ones ;  but  I  will  do  the  best  I 
can,  First  I  will  tell  you  the  story  of  one  I 
used  to  know,  but  whom  I  never  could  love 
after  I  heard  her  history.  I  could  give  you 
a  more  amusing  one ;  but  on  the  whole  this 
seems  the  best  to  begin  with.  It  will  teach 
you  lessons  of  respect  and  gratitude  to  the 
aged,  a  class  whom  God  tenderly  regards, 
and  whom  he  has  commanded  us  to  honor. 
How  much  my  dear  mother  used  to  lean  on 
God's  promises  to  the  aged  !  How  often  she 
used  to  say,  — 

E'en  down  to  old  age  all  my  children  shall  prove 
My  sovereign,  eternal,  unchangeable  love  ; 
And  when  hoary  hairs  shall  their  temples  adorn, 
Like  lambs  in  my  bosom  they  still  shall  be  borne.  r 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.       81 
SALLY  BROWN. 

"  Many  years  ago  there  stood  a  humble  little 
cottage  in  a  western  forest.  A  circular  spot 
had  been  cleared  for  it,  but  all  around  the 
large  oaks  stretched  out  their  arms  and 
seemed  to  grasp  each  other,  thus  forming  a 
roof 'Over  the  lowly  dwelling.  The  blue  sky 
could  be  seen  here  and  there  through  the 
ever-fluttering  leaves,  and  the  birds  built  their 
nests  in  the  branches  and  sung  merrily  there. 
The  leaves  of  the  silver  birch  kept  up  their 
unceasing  dance  in  the  light  breeze,  the  wild 
flowers  grew  in  profusion,  and  the  young 
pines  shed  their  fragrance  around  the  place. 
You  would  have  almost  thought  that  little 
opening  in  the  deep  forest  to  be  a  scene  in 
fairy  land,  so  laden  was  it  with  the  beauties 
which  deck  that  fabled  region.  But  the  house 
which  stood  within  it  in  no  way  resembled  a 
fairy  palace.  Its  structure  was  of  the  rud- 
est kind,  and  the  shed  which  stood  beside  it 


32  MAPLE  HILL. 

looked  frail  indeed.  This  sheltered  the  stock 
of  the  little  farm,  consisting  of  a  cow,  pig, 
and  an  aged  horse.  The  dwelling  contained 
bat  one  room,  and  a  garret  which  was  reached 
by  a  rude  ladder.  The  room  had  one  window 
m  front  and  one  behind,  and  in  summer  these 
were  always  covered  with  the  meek  morning 
glory  and  gaudy  nasturtium  vine.  The  little 
plot  before  the  door  was  smooth,  and  made 
soft  with  the  sheddings  of  the  pine  for  many 
a  year.  Altogether  the  place  wore  the  aspect 
of  poverty,  but  the  aged  couple  who  dwelt 
there  knew  it  not.  They  had  been  poor 
through  a  long  life  of  toil  and  sorrow ;  but 
now,  when  their  sun  was  setting,  they  felt  very 
rich.  By  the  labor  of  their  own  hands  they 
had  built  this  lowly  home  for  their  old  age, 
and  paid  for  two  acres  of  land  surrounding 
it.  True,  the  chimney  was  made  of  stones 
and  clay,  and  looked  very  rough,  and  the  floor 
was  of  unplaned  boards ;  but,  for  all  this, 
many  a  rich  neighbor  who  smiled  scornfully 


BESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.  33 

as  he  passed  might  have  envied  the  peace  and 
happiness  enjoyed  around  that  unhewn  hearth- 
stone. 

."  These  worthy  people  had  reared  a  large 
family,  but  their  children  had  fallen  one  by 
one,  till  they  were  left  in  their  old  age  without 
one  arm  on  which  to  lean.  But  no  murmur 
ever  rose  from  their  lips,  no  doubt  ever  marred 
their  faith  in  God's  mercy  for  the  future. 

"  The  meek-spirited  woman,  now  too  old  to 
toil  hard  for  the  neighbors,  as  she  had  been 
wont,  plied  steadily  her  knitting-needles,  and 
thus  helped  to  earn  the  few  comforts  they 
needed.  Her  companion,  cheerful  and  active, 
although  the  frosts  of  seventy  winters  lay 
heavy  on  his  head,  wove  corn  baskets  for  the 
neighboring  farmers.  When  the  light  faded 
away,  the  old  man  would  seat  himself  on  the 
broad  hearth  and  plait  his  baskets  by  the  light 
of  the  hemlock  branches  which  blazed  and 
crackled  there.  Then  they  talked  of  their 
many  mercies,  and  sung  songs  of  praise  to 

3 


34  MAPLE  HILL. 

Grod,  who  had  not  left  them  when  gray  hairs 
were  upon  them. 

"  And  thus  in  simple  love  and  quiet  faith  the 
aged  pair  had  lived  several  years  previous  to 
the  death  of  their  last  child.     She  was  poor, 
and  died  far  from  home,  where  she  had  gone 
to  earn  her  bread.     She  left  a  helpless  child 
with  no  friend  near  but  a  careless  and  indo- 
lent father.     He   carried   it   at   once   to  the 
grandparents,  expecting   no    doubt   a  rebuke 
for  casting  it  off.     But  no  ;  they  knew  that 
he  would  not  rear  the  child  in  the  fear  of 
God,  and  so  they  were  thankful  to  take  her. 
"  Sally  was  a  sweet  and  gentle  child,  and 
very  soon  the  old  people  began  to  wonder  how 
they  had  ever  lived  alone  so  long.     As  she 
grew,  she  learned   to   lighten   in   many  little 
ways  the  toil  of  her  grandmother,  and  always 
cheered  with  her  singing  voice  the  labor  of 
the  old  basket-maker,  when  he  went  into  the 
wood  to  gather  his  basket  stuff.     She  loved 
to  run  to  the  brook  near  by  for  a  little  pail 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.  35 

of  water,  and  to  the  grove  for  brushwood,  and 
altogether  she  was  a  good  and  useful  child. 
They  taught  her  themselves  to  read,  for  the 
school  was  a  long  way  off,  so  that  she  could 
only  go  a  few  weeks  in  summer.  But  these 
good  people  well  knew  that  she  ought  to  learn 
far  more  than  they  could  teach  her,  that  she 
might  be  useful  in  the  world,  and  often  talked 
together  about  it.  This  surprised  Sally,  as 
she  had  thought  her  grandparents  very  wise, 
and  she  said,  '  Oh,  Grandfather,  I  know  a 
great  deal.  I  can  read  my  primer  nearly 
through,  and  all  the  learning  I  shall  need  to 
take  care  of  you  will  be  to  read  the  Bible. 
If  anybody  would  make  a  lady  of  me,  I  would 
not  go  away ;  for  I  should  never  find  such  a 
beautiful  home  as  this,  nor  any  one  so  dear 
and  good  as  you  and  grandma.' 

"  And  thus  the  bright  summers  and  the  cold 
winters  passed  away  ;  and  Sally  was  now  four- 
teen years  old.  Then  came  a  gayly-dressed 
cousin  from  a  distant  city,  to  visit  the  old  peo- 


36  MAPLE  HILL. 

pie.  She  had  been  a  playmate  of  Sally's 
mother,  and  took  much  notice  of  the  child. 
She  told  her  how  very  handsome  she  was,  and 
how  much  better  she  would  look,  if  she  had  fine 
dresses  and  bonnets.  Sally  was  not  a  little 
surprised  at  this,  as  she  considered  her  red 
calico  gown  with  its  orange-colored  flowers 
very  elegant,  and  knew  how  many  pairs  of 
stockings  she  and  her  grandmother  had  knit  to 
purchase  it.  But  this  new  cousin  was  the 
greatest  lady  she  had  ever  seen,  so  she  must 
be  a  good  judge  ;  and  she  began  to  be  ashamed 
of  her  high-necked  and  short-waisted  dress, 
which  but  a  week  before  called  forth  such 
simple  pride  and  such  gratitude  to  her  grand- 
mother. 

"  This  cousin  was  the  wife  of  a  man  who, 
although  coarse  and  ignorant,  had  by  a  sudden 
speculation  grown  rich.  She  had  no  children 
of  her  own,  and  when  she  saw  Sally,  with  her 
sweet  face  and  pleasing  manners,  she  wished 
to  take  her  home.    At  first  the  old  people  de- 


RESPECT  FOB  THE  AGED.  37 

clared  they  could  not  part  with  her,  and  she, 
that  she  would  not  leave  them  to  go  away  with 
the  queen.  But  promises  were  made  of  giving 
Sally  a  good  education,  so  that  in  three  or  four 
years  she  could  return  and  teach  the  village 
school.  This  seemed  to  the  old  people  the 
highest  pinnacle  of  grandeur,  and  they  gave 
a  reluctant  consent  to  her  departure.  The 
cousin  promised  to  send  Sally  regularly  to 
church  and  Sabbath-school,  and  to  teach  her 
the  holy  lessons  of  love  and  truth.  But  alas 
for  all  these  promises!  she  herself  was  a 
stranger  to  God's  word  and  to  his  sanctuary. 
"  Sally  was  soon  three  hundred  miles  away 
from  her  best  friends,  and  exposed  to  all  kinds 
of  temptation.  At  first  she  used  to  object  to 
many  things  which  she  feared  would  displease 
her  absent  guardians.  But  she  was  laughed 
at,  and  told  that  her  grandparents  were  igno- 
rant, backwoods  people,  who  knew  nothing 
about  the  gay  city.  Such  remarks  at  first 
deeply  pained  the  young  girl,  for  she  felt  that 


38  MAPLE  HILL. 

in  listening  to  them  she  was  injuring  those  who 
amid  great  sacrifices  had  protected  her  in  her 
helplessness.  But  the  human  heart  when  left 
to  itself  is  very  ungrateful  and  very  deceitful ; 
and  Sally,  being  young,  was  soon  drawn  away 
into  vanity,  and  forgot  the  words  of  warning 
and  of  prayer  she  had  heard  so  often  at  the 
fireside  in  the  old  cot.  She  soon  began  to 
dress  like  her  superiors,  and  to  affect  a  great 
many  airs  which  nature  never  gave  her.  Then 
she  looked  back  in  scorn  upon  the  happy  days 
she  had  passed  in  the  depth  of  that  old  forest, 
saying,  '  I  shall  be  wretched  when  I  go  back 
to  my  home  again.' 

" c  I  mean  you  shall  never  go  back  again,' 
said  the  rich  cousin,  '  and  I  am  sorry  that  the 
old  people  seem  so  impatient  to  see  you.  It  is 
of  no  use  to  keep  writing  all  the  time  to  them. 
They  will  die  soon,  at  any  rate ;  so  if  you  go 
back,  you  can  not  be  with  them  long.  Why, 
there  would  not  be  room  enough  in  the  whole 
house  for  you ;  —  how  could  you  ever  climb  up 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.  39 

that  rough  ladder  to  go  to  bed,  after  having 
had  such  a  large  chamber  all  to  yourself  ? ' 
Such  were  the  lessons  of  neglect  and  scorn 
which  were  daily  given  to  Sally  as  she  grew 
to  womanhood,  and  they  were  about  all  the 
lessons  she  received,—  gaudy  dresses,  and  gay 
company  absorbing  her  time  and  thoughts. 

"  All  this  time  the  heart  of  Sally  was  grow- 
ing harder  and  harder ;  but  those  of  the  aged 
friends  were  beating  with  anticipation  of  her 
return.  Week  after  week  they  suffered  dis- 
appointment in  not  hearing  from  her,  and  then 
they  would  flatter  themselves  that  she  was  on 
her  way  to  them,  and  thought  to  give  them  a 
joyful  surprise.  But  four  long  years  rolled 
away,  and  she  had  not  come.  Her  last  letters 
were  short,  and  exhibited  none  of  her  former 
impatience  to  see  them.  They  grew  weary 
and  heart-sick  from  hope  deferred.  They 
feared  that  their  own  simple  letters  had  failed 
to  express  the  deep  longings  of  their  hearts  for 
her  company  and  care,  which   they   greatly 


40  MAPLE  HILL* 

needed.  So  they  opened  their  hearts  to  the 
schoolmaster,  asking  him  to  write  a  letter  for 
them,  which  he  gladly  did.  Now  they  were 
very  sure  that  such  an  eloquent  appeal  would 
bring  back  an  answer  speedily.  Poor,  fond 
hearts !  It  was  cruel  beyond  degree  thus  to 
cast  them  off  when  their  strength  failed.  But 
Sally,  the  little  outcast  child  whom  they  had 
fondly  reared,  and  over  whose  sick  pillow  they 
had  sat  many  a  long  night,  had  hardened  her 
heart  to  do  it.  The  humble  home  which  had 
seemed  like  paradise  to  them  began  to  look 
gloomy,  and  they  resolved  to  sell  it  and  set  off 
in  search  of  their  lost  darling ;  for  they  feared 
that  some  evil,  perhaps  death,  had  befallen 
her.  It  would  have  been  a  great  undertaking 
for  the  young  to  travel  in  a  mail-coach  drawn 
by  four  strong  horses,  several  hundred  miles ; 
what  then  was  it  for  this  couple,  of  fourscore 
years,  in  an  old  chaise  drawn  by  a  very  vener- 
able horse ! 

"  After  weeks  of  travel  and  weariness,  they, 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.  41 

one  bright  spring  afternoon,  entered  the  gay 
city ;  and  we  are  sure  they  and  their  equipage 
attracted  some  attention.  They  made  con- 
stant inquiries  until  they  found  the  street  in 
which  Sally  lived.  They  rode  up  toward  the 
house,  just  as  Sally  was  parting  on  the  steps 
with  some  of  her  friends.  '  Oh,  do  look  at 
that  old  horse  and  chaise,'  she  cried ;  '  I  be- 
lieve Adam  and  Eve  have  risen  from  the  dead ; 
or  have  two  mummies  from  the  Egyptian  cata- 
combs emigrated  to  this  country  ?  Do  look  at 
the  old  man's  bell-crowned  hat,  and  at  the  pile 
of  capes  on  his  old  coat.'  But,  as  they  all 
gazed  rudely  at  the  modest  pair,  the  old  square- 
top  chaise,  with  its  rude,  unpainted  shafts, 
drew  up  to  the  door.  i  Is  this  Number  13  ? ' 
shouted  the  grandfather.  Sally  turned  pale  as 
she  answered  him,  '  It  is.'  He  replied"  with 
a  smile,  '  Then  I  suppose  you  are  our  dear 
child,  Sally  Brown !  God  in  heaven  bless  you, 
child, — come,  help  your  grandmother  out  of 
the  shay,  for  she's  a'most  wore  out.     We  was 


42  MAPLE  HILL. 

determined  to  find  you,  darling,  if  alive  ;  and 
if  dead,  to  be  buried  aside  of  you.' 

"  Sally  did  not  move,  and  the  poor  old  woman 
got  out  as  well  as  she  could  with  her  husband's 
help,  and  began  to  embrace  her  in  the  fondest 
manner.  Sally's  visitors,  being  mean  and 
cruel  enough  to  ridicule  the  aged  and  poor, 
whom  the  Almighty  bids  us  to  honor,  had  not 
of  course  delicacy  enough  to  leave  now,  but 
stood  waiting  to  have  the  mystery  explained. 

"  They  could  scarcely  believe  it  when  they 
learned  that  these  were  the  grandparents  of 
one  so  elegant  as  they  thought  her  to  be,  and 
did  not  fail  to  spread  the  news  wherever  thej 
called  of  the  arrival  of  Sally  Brown's  beggai 
friends,  and  of  her  mortification  at  their  ap- 
pearance. 

"  The  reception  which  the  aged  couple  me' 
with  at  the  city  cousin's  was  exceedingly  cold 
and  they  soon  felt  that  they  must  find  a  hom< 
somewhere  else.  Three  hundred  dollars  whicl 
they  had  procured  from  the  sale  of  their  littL 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.  43 

'arm  enabled  them  to  hire  and  furnish  a  cheer- 
ul  room.  But  the  coolness  of  their  reception 
*ave  a  wound  to  the  heart  of  the  grandmother, 
vhich  she  had  not  strengcL  to  overcome.  No 
lubsequent  attention  from  x  t  niece  or  from 
Sally  could  erase  from  her  memory  that  first 
;ruel  meeting.  The  summer  and  the  long 
winter  following  wore  away,  and  they  had 
jvery  comfort,  but  hope  had  fled  from  the 
jheerful  breast  of  the  worthy  woman.  Her 
spirit  was  crushed,  for  she  felt  that  the  only 
)eing  in  the  world  on  whom  she  had  a  claim 
jyas  ashamed  of  her.  Sally  looked  like  a  lady  ; 
Dut  if  true  politeness  had  had  any  place  in  her 
aeart,  she  could  never  have  dealt  thus  with 
the  aged,  even  had  they  been  strangers. 
Sometimes  she  called  on  her  grandparents, 
and  offered  to  assist  them,  but  said  she  could 
not  do  much,  as  she  herself  was  dependent. 
But  this  was  her  own  choice,  for  God  had 
given  her  health  and  ability  to  labor ;  but  she 
preferred  a  life  of  vanity  and  idleness  to  one 


44  MAPLE  HILL. 

of  usefulness  and  gratitude.  The  feeble  pai 
felt  deeply  that  she  was  no  longer  their  child 
and  her  patronizing  visits  were  a  restrain 
rather  than  a  comfort. 

"  They  were  not  suffered  to  be  a  burden  t< 
any,  for  before  their  money  was  gone  they  botl 
fell  asleep.  They  entered  the  home  when 
the  lowliest  child  meets  with  a  cordial  we] 
come.  '  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  in 
herit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you.'  Neve 
more  can  their  loving  hearts  be  disturbed  b; 
ingratitude,  neglect,  or  scorn ! 

"  I'm  sure,  dear  children,"  said  Aunt  Lucj 
"  you  think  that  what  little  treasures  these  ol< 
people  had,  were  left  to  others  rather  than  t 
this  ungrateful  child.  But  it  was  not  so  ;  the; 
loved  her  still,  and,  cruel  as  she  had  been,  he 
happiness  was  very  dear  to  them.  A  hundrei 
dollars  and  the  simple  furniture  with  whic! 
they  had  kept  house  were  left  after  their  fu 
neral  expenses  were  paid,  and  Sally,  who  no^ 
called  herself  i  Sarah,'  lost  no  time  in  turning 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.  45 

all  she  could  into  money.  With  this  she  pur- 
shased  a  watch  and  chain,  ear-rings  and  gold 
bracelets ;  so  that  Peggy  Blunt,  the  old  wo- 
man who  lived  in  the  next  room,  and  who  had 
ione  for  the  old  people  what  Sally  should  have 
lone  in  their  sickness  and  death,  said, '  That 
are  vain  cretur  has  got  the  cooking-stove 
round  her  neck,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  furni- 
ture in  her  ears  and  on  her  wrists.' 

"  How  truly  does  a  love  of  dress  and  of  vain 
company  blot  out  sincerity,  gratitude,  and  all 
that  makes  woman  loved  and  blessed.  Beware 
of  the  spirit  which  tempts  the  young  to  indulge 
in  ridicule  and  sarcastic  jests  against  those 
whom  the  Lord  tenderly  loves  and  watches 
over,  —  against  any  of  his  creatures.  The 
flight  of  years  has  made  great  changes  around 
the  home  of  Sally's  childhood.  The  little  set- 
tlement is  now  a  large  city,  and  the  deep  for- 
est where  the  little  cot  stood  is  covered  with 
houses  and  gardens.  But  years  can  never 
change  the  past  for  her,  nor  efface  from  her 


46  MAPLE  HILL. 

mind  her  cruel  treatment  of  those  faithf 
friends.  The  memory  of  those  patient  hi 
sorrowful  faces,  we  doubt  not,  often  visits  h( 
dreams  and  disturbs  her  waking  hours.  Be 
ter  had  it  been  for  her  had  she  spent  her  li: 
with  them  in  simple  love  and  usefulness. 

"  And  that  is  nearly  all  I  know  about  Sal] 
Brown,"  said  Aunt  Lucy.  "  She  became  a 
quainted  with  a  silly  young  man,  who,  findir 
she  despised  labor,  and  had  declared  she  nev< 
would  marry  a  mechanic ,  left  his  trade  - 
house-painting  —  and  went  into  a  small  dr; 
goods  store  as  a  clerk.  Then  they  were  ma 
ried,  and  Sally,  fancying  she  was  a  merchant 
wife,  came  out  in  plumes  and  flowers  and  lace 
and  a  great  costly  velvet  shawl !  But  by  ac 
by  these  had  to  be  paid  for ;  and  then  she  foui] 
•out  that  her  husband's  income  was  only  hal 
what  it  was  when  he  did  his  honest  day's  woi 
with  pot  and  brush.  He  soon  had  to  go  bac 
to  them  ;  and  then  people  said  he  used  to  sli 
out  of  the  basement  door,  like  a  thief,  with  h 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  AGED.  47 

paint-pot  done  up  as  one  package,  and  his 
overalls  as  another.  They  became  very  poor, 
as  people  too  proud  to  work  always  must,  and 
then  Peggy  Blunt  said,  c  They  can  eat  gold 
watches  and  bracelets  now ! ' 

"  Dear  children,"  said  Aunt  Lucy,  "  I  have 
been  so  long  the  companion  of  the  aged  that  I 
have  learned  to  love  them  all ;  and  nothing 
grieves  me  more  than  to  see  one  such  coldly  or 
rudely  treated.  Let  it  be  your  principle 
through  life  to  add  one  grain,  if  no  more,  to 
the'  happiness  of  those  who  are  going  the  down 
hill  of  life.  You  will  receive  a  rich  reward  in 
their  gratitude  as  well  as  in  the  approbation  of 
Him  who  has  said,  'A  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of 
glory  when  found  in  the  way  of  righteousness.' 

"  And  this  is  the  end  of  Story  Number  One ! 
To-morrow  night,  if  we  are  all  spared,  I  will  tell 
you  one  not  so  sad  as  this  ;  one  of  a  dear  child 
who  tried  to  do  all  in  her  power  to  make  others 
happy.  Now  a  kiss  from  each,  and  then  away 
to  blessed  sleep  and  happy  dreams." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

KINDNESS    TO    THE    POOR. — THE    STORY    OP   OLD 
KARL. 

"  What,  has  evening  come  so  soon  again  ?  " 
asked  Aunt  Lucy,  as  her  nieces  and  nephew, 
the  little  Maxwells,  and  Lillie  Emerson,  an- 
other guest,  entered  "  Maple  Hill  Nursery,' ' 
as  her  chamber  was  now  called.  "  Well,  truly 
time  flies ;  and  soon  all  our  days  will  be 
gone ! " 

"  Now  for  the  story,  dear  Auntie,"  cried 
Ned,  rubbing  his  hands  together  impatiently. 

"  Some  people,"  said  Aunt  Lucy,  "  think 
that  little  children,  and  the  poor  especially, 
can  not  do  any  good  in  the  world.  But  we 
will  show  them  what  one  poor  child  did  from 
love  in  her  heart." 


KINDNESS  TO  THE  POOR.  49 

OLD    KARL. 

"  Far  up  among  the  Swiss  Mountains  may  be 
seen  many  little  hamlets  composed  of  cottages 
occupied  by  humble  shepherds  and  herdsmen. 
In  some  of  them,  the  lowly  church  is  sur- 
mounted by  a  cross,  as  a  token  that  there 
the  Virgin  Mary  and  other  saints  are  wor- 
shiped. But  it  is  not  so  in  all,  for  many 
of  these  mountaineers  are  worshipers  of  the 
only  true  God  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he  has 
sent.  In  one  of  these  secluded  villages,  down 
in  a  deep  green  valley,  stands  a  little  moss- 
grown  stone  chapel,  with  a  low  square  spire. 
And  it  is  just  as  well  that  the  spire  is  low, 
for  the  loftiest  one  could  not  point  up  so  ef- 
fectually to  God  as  do  those  everlasting  hills 
which  he  has  made.  As  you  stand  in  the 
humble  graveyard,  you  read  the  names  of  the 
dead  painted  on  boards  made  in  the  form  of 
gravestones.  There  are  words  of  love  just 
as  fervent  as  if  graven  in  costly  marble,  but 

4 


50  MAPLE  HILL. 

they  soon  decay  and  fall  to  the  ground.  The 
people  do  not  earn  enough  money  to  enable 
them  to  buy  more  durable  monuments  for 
their  friends,  and,  as  they  are  satisfied  with 
these,  it  is  just  as  well. 

"  If,  standing  here,  you  turn  your  eyes  up- 
ward, you  see  the  snows  which  never  melt, 
while  beneath  your  feet,  the  flowers  are  bloom- 
ing and  the  vine  bending  under  its  wealth  of 
grapes.  Summer  and  winter,  seed-time  and 
harvest,  seem  to  have  met  and  shaken  hands 
on  these  beautiful  mountains. 

"  The  people  in  the  little  hamlet  of  which 
we  are  now  speaking  are  honest  and  simple- 
hearted,  living  in  the  fear  of  God  and  loving 
each  other.  There  is  one  house  much  larger 
and  finer  than  the  rest,  and  the  man  who 
dwells  there  owns  most  of  the  flocks  and 
herds  which  graze  in  the  valley,  and  the  vine- 
yards with  which  it  abounds.  These  posses- 
sions give  employment  to  most  of  the  cot- 
tagers, who,  by  toil  and  strict  economy,  gain 


KINDNESS  TO  THE  POOR.  51 

the  bare  necessaries  of  life.  But  in  one  little 
stone  cot  dwells  a  man  whose  day  of  toil  is 
over.  His  long  life  was  passed  among  these 
hills.  In  youth,  by  teaching  the  children,  and 
in  old  age,  by  loving  and  amusing  them,  he 
had  won  every  heart  to  himself.  When  the 
people  at  length  wanted  a  wiser  teacher  than 
he  for  their  children,  they  did  not  rudely  cast 
him  off  in  his  old  age,  but  interceded  for  him 
with  the  man  at  the  '  high  house,'  as  it  was 
called,  and  he  became  one  of  his  shepherds. 
Then  would  the  children  gather  round  him 
before  and  after  school,  and  listen  to  his  words 
of  kind  advice  and  to  his  tales  of  the  olden 
time.  The  little  holiday  sports  were  generally 
before  his  cottage  door,  where  he  would  allow 
them  to  deck  with  wreaths  the  lambs  of  hiss 
fold,  and  would  himself  sit  down  by  the  bright 
spring  and  share  their  little  feast.  Do  you 
think  old  Karl  was  simple  because  he  loved 
children  and  strove  to  gather  them  around 
him  ?     Ah j  no,  he  was  a  very  wise  man,  and 


52  MAPLE   HILL. 

did,  far  more  good  than  thousands  who  teach 
the  wisdom  of  the  world. 

"  One  day  a  little  girl  made  a  wreath  of 
flowers,  and,  laughing,  placed  it  on  the  old 
man's  head,  saying,  '  See,  Father  Karl,  now 
you  are  crowned  for  our  king.'  He  smiled 
and  said,  *  My  crown  is  far  more  beautiful 
than  those  which  monarchs  wear.  God  alone 
could  make  it,  but  any  good  goldsmith  could 
make  a  crown  of  gold  and  jewels.  Besides, 
crowns  are  very  heavy,  darlings,  and  not  only 
make  the  head  ache,  but  also  the  heart,  with 
the  weight  of  cares  they  bring.  Oh,  how 
much  I  thank  God  that  I  am  his  child,  — 
old  Karl,  the  mountain  shepherd,  —  and  not 
a  king  or  duke.'  Then  he  led  their  minds 
away  from  their  play,  and  talked  of  Him  who 
wears  an  immortal  crown  in  heaven,  and  who 
might  have  worn  an  earthly  one,  but  who,  for 
our  sakes,  chose  to  be  poor  that  we  might  be 
rich,  —  lowly,  that  we  might  be  raised  to  a 
seat  at  God's  right  hand. 


KINDNESS  TO  THE  POOR.  53 

"  Karl  once  had  a  faithful  wife,  but  she  had 
gone  to  heaven  long  ago,  so  he  was  quite 
alone  in  the  world ;  but  he  was  not  at  all 
anxious  for  the  future,  for  he  said  that  as 
his  Father  owned  the  whole  world,  there  was 
no  danger  that  he  should  suffer  or  starve. 
No  wonder  that  the  children  loved  the  friend 
who  led  them  through  such  pleasant  paths  to 
the  Redeemer. 

"  Elise,  the  little  maiden  at  the  '  high  house,' 
loved  to  listen  to  his  pleasant  stories,  although 
she  did  not  know  as  much  about  Jesus  as  did 
the  poorer  children,  nor  love  Karl  for  His 
sake.  She  sometimes  went  to  his  home  in 
the  valley,  and  gave  him  warm  garments  for 
the  winter,  and  nice  food  which  he  could  not 
afford  to  buy.  If  she  had  a  little  roll  or  a 
basket  of  fruit  for  him,  she  would  have  it 
carried  by  a  servant,  or  send  for  him  'to 
climb  the  steep  hill  to  get  it. 

"  There  was  another  little  girl  who  had  the 
same  kind  feelings  towards  the  old  man,  but 


54  MAPLE  HILL. 

she  had  not  the  means  of  showing  it  in  the 
same  way.  Terese's  father  was  poor.  He 
had  a  good  flock  of  sheep,  the  wool  of  which 
helped  to  clothe  the  little  ones  in  winter. 
Every  week  he  killed  a  lamb,  but  as  he  had 
no  horse  to  carry  it  to  market,  Terese  and 
her  brother  took  it  in  baskets  four  miles.  In 
summer  they  went  through  the  road  to  the 
nearest  town,  and  in  winter  they  strapped 
their  baskets  to  their  shoulders  and  skated 
there  on  the  stream  which  ran  through  the 
hills.  This  was  a  much  quicker  and  easier 
way,  and  one  which  is  common  in  Germany 
and  Switzerland.  But,  with  all  this  help,  the 
father  found  it  very  hard  to  provide  food  and 
fuel  to  make  them  all  comfortable. 

"At  last  poor  Karl  became  so  feeble  that 
he  could  no  longer  take  care  of  the  sheep. 
For  many  weeks  he  was  quite  helpless  with 
rheumatism  brought  on  by  sitting  out  all  day 
m  the  damp  air.  Then  it  was  that  he  found 
the  value  of  the  little  friends  he  had  gained. 


KINDNESS  TO  THE  POOR.  55 

lie  had  been  a  kind  neighbor  for  years  to 
Terese's  family,  so  the  mother  was  willing  to 
work  a  little  harder  when  he  grew  sick,  that 
her  child  might  make  up  his  bed  and  sweep 
the  cottage.  One  day  she  returned  to  her 
home  after  having  done  this,  and  her  mother 
saw  that  she  had  been  weeping.  When  she 
asked  the  cause  of  her  tears,  Terese  replied, 
'  Oh,  mother  dear,  I  can  do  nothing  for  Karl. 
He  has  no  wife  to  care  for  him,  and  no 
children  to  toil  for  him  as  my  father  has. 
Why  did  God  not  give  us  large  flocks  and 
herds  and  vineyards  ?  Then  I  could  do  some 
good,  but  now  I  can  not.  While  I  was  at  the 
cottage  this  morning,  Elise  came  in  with  a 
servant  carrying  a  large  basket.  When  she 
took  out  all  the  nice  things  and  put  them 
on  the  little  table  I  had  just  scoured,  she 
said,  "  I  brought  you  these,  Father  Karl,  be- 
cause I  love  you."  The  old  man  kissed  her 
white  hand  and  asked,  "  Why  do  you  love 
me,  daughter  ?  "     "  Because  you  tell  me  such 


56  MAPLE  HILL. 

beautiful  stories  about  Willian  Tell  and  Na- 
poleon Bonaparte  ;  and  I  hope  that  these 
good  things  will  make  you  well,  so  that  you 
can  tell  me  many  more."  Then  he  said,  "  \ 
thank  you  for  your  love,  daughter,  and  I  will 
keep  it  in  my  heart,  but  I  wish  it  were  be- 
cause I  told  you  beautiful  stories  of  Christ, 
that  you  loved  me."  ' 

"  '  I  knew  you  would  need  me,  dear  mother, 
so,  as  I  was  done,  I  came  away  while  he  was 
talking  so  sweetly  to  Elise.  She  seemed  im- 
patient, and  I  am  sure  was  not  so  well  pleased 
as  she  would  have  been  with  some  other  tale.' 

"  The  mother  did  not  seem  to  realize  how 
much  Terese  was  really  doing,  any  more  than 
did  the  child  herself,  but  said,  '  You  must  be 
satisfied  with  the  lot  God  has  given  you,  my 
good  child.' 

"  The  next  day  when  her  lowly  duties  were 
all  done,  Terese  went  with  the  other  children 
to  the  old  stone  chapel  to  be  catechized.  The 
aged  pastor  read  the  chapter  in  which  Jesus, 


KINDNESS  TO  THE  POOR.  57 

to  teach  humility,  washed  the  feet  of  his  dis- 
ciples, and  said,  '  If  I  then,  your  Lord  and 
Master,  have  washed  your  feet,  ye  ought  also 
to  wash  one  another's  feet.  For  I  have  given 
you  an  example  that  you  should  do  as  I  have 
done  to  you.' 

"  Then  the  pastor  told  the  little  ones  that  any 
humble  service,  even  this,  which  Christ  per- 
formed for  his  disciples,  would  manifest  our 
humility  and  willingness  to  serve  him.  *  God,' 
he  said,  6  does  not  need  our  service,  for  the 
cattle  on  a  thousand  hills  are  his,  and  he  could 
feed  and  clothe  all  his  poor  without  the  aid  of 
any  one.  But  if  you  really  love  him,  you 
will  be  watching  for  opportunities  to  show  that 
love.  Christ  has  laid  aside  his  mortal  body 
and  gone  to  his  glorious  home  on  high.  You 
can  not  bathe  his  aching  head,  —  you  can  not 
remove  his  dust-soiled  sandals,  nor  lave  with 
water  his  weary  feet,  —  you  can  not  give  him 
bread  to  eat  or  a  place  to  lay  his  head.  No, 
lambs  of  my  fold,  you  can  do  none  of  these 


58  MAPLE  HILL. 

things  for  the  Redeemer  in  person,  tut  you  can 
do  all  these  and  many  more  for  those  whom  he 
calls  members  of  his  body.  You  can  do  it,  — 
you  have  done  it.  Many  of  you  have  left  your 
sports  and  gone  to  speak  kind  words,  and  to 
perform  little  kind  acts  to  the  godly  old  Karl. 
I  thank  you,  my  lambs.  Jesus  knows  it,  and 
he  will  remember  it  in  the  great  day,  if  you 
did  it  from  love  to  him.' 

"  After  repeating  their  catechism,  and  joining 
in  prayer  with  the  pastor,  they  went  to  their 
homes.  At  the  door  of  the  chapel  Terese  met 
Elise,  who  said  with  a  smiling  face,  '  Ah,  you 
see  pastor  Schmitz  heard  that  I  was  at  Karl's 
yesterday ! ' 

:..*.*  *  Yes,'  said  the  good  little  Terese,  who  did 
not  envy  her  neighbor,  '  he  has  no  doubt 
heard  it.  It  was  very  kind  in  you  to  leave 
such  a  fine  house,  and  go  to  that  poor  cottage, 
and  I  thank  you  for  it.' 

"  Now  this  dear  child  did  not  realize  all  this 
time  that  she  was  doing  far  more  for  Father 


KINDNESS  TO   THE  POOR.  59 

Karl  than  was  Elise.  She  would  never  have 
crossed  the  hill  alone  to  make  his  bed  or  scour 
his  floor  or  bring  him  water  from  the  spring. 
Ah,  no  !  this  was  not  the  work  for  those  white 
hands.  There  were  few  on  earth  who  strove 
to  bathe  the  Saviour's  feet,  but  many  who 
sought  to  place  a  temporal  crown  upon  his 
head.  Elise  belonged  to  this  latter  class.  She 
could  praise  her  aged  fried,  she  could  crown 
his  head  with  flowers,  or  send  him  gifts  which 
cost  no  self-denial ;  but  the  labor  of  Terese 
was  the  same  in  character  and  prompted  by 
the  same  spirit  as  the  washing  of  the  disciples 
and  the  anointing  of  the  Saviour.  Terese 
understood  what  the  good  pastor  had  said,  and 
felt  comforted.  She  called  at  the  cottage  on 
her  way,  and  repeated  all  she  had  heard  to  the 
old  man." 

"Oh,  what  a  sweet  story  that  is,  Auntie 
dear,"  cried  Jennie.  "  I  could  sit  all  night  to' 
hear  you  talk! " 


60  MAPLE  HILL. 

"  Auntie,"  said  Ned,  "  these  two  stories  are 
about  girls.  Won't  you  tell  one  about  a  boy 
to-morrow  night  ?  " 

rt  Yes,  my  dear,  I  will,"  replied  the  kind 
Miss  Thorne ;  "  and  after  this,  if  you  wish,  I 
will  tell  a  boy  story  every  second  evening. 
But  remember,  Ned,  that  this  one  applies  to 
boys  as  well  as  to  girls.  You  and  your  little 
friend  can  split  wood  or  shovel  a  path  for  some 
poor  widow,  just  as  well  as  the  girls  can  make 
a  garment  or  watch  beside  a  sick-bed.  '  Where 
there's  a  will  there's  a  way '  to  be  useful ;  and 
children  who  walk  with  their  eyes  open  will  be 
sure  to  see  work  before  them.  If  you  stoop 
and  pick  up  a  stick  or  a  stone  which  lies  in  the 
path  of  a  lame  or  blind  person,  you  do  a  very 
little  thing ;  and  yet  Jesus  will  own  it  as  an 
act  done  to  himself,  if  your  spirit  is  right  in 
his  sight." 


CHAPTER  V. 

TALE-BEARING.  —  STORY    OF   BIRSEY,   THE 
TATTLER. 

"A  boy's  story  to-night ?"  asked  Aunt 
jucy.  "  Well,  gather  up  to  the  little  fire  this 
•amy  evening ;  for,  as  it  is  summer  now,  we 
yon't  play  winter  any  more.  You  have  now 
in  idea  of  the  old  nursery,  with  its  wood-fire 
tnd  brass  andirons.  Bridget,  not  understand- 
ng  our  sport,  asked  your  mother  6  if  Miss 
Chorne  was  striving  to  roast  the  children  en- 
irely?'" 

"  I'm  sure  it  has  been  cold  enough  for  a  fire 
;hese  three  evenings,"  said  Jennie. 

"  I  wish  we  could  have  fires  all  summer," 
said  Ned,  "  it  makes  the  room  so  cheerful." 

"  I  rather  think  you  would  not  care  for  a 
ire  in  August,  my  boy,"  said  his  mother. 

"  But  now  to  our  story." 


62  MAPLE  HILL 

BIRSEY,  THE  TATTLER. 

"  You  know,  my  dears,  the  Word  of  God  says, 
*  Thou  shalt  not  go  up  and  down  as  a  tale-bearer 
among  thy  people.'  '  The  words  of  a  tale- 
bearer are  as  wounds.' 

"  Tale-bearing,  back-biting,  and  meddling  in 
the  affairs  of  others,  are  not  reckoned  by  the* 
world  among  gross  sins.  They  are  often  looked 
upon  only  as  acts  of  meanness,  or  impoliteness, 
or  the  result  of  ill-breeding.  But  the  Scrip- 
tures speak  plainly  of  these  sins  as  hateful  to 
God,  and  as  provoking  his  displeasure  against 
those  who  commit  them.  There  can  be  no 
true  sincerity  in  the  character  where  these  are 
a  prevailing  trait.  Envy,  jealousy,  and  hatred 
are  the  bitter  fountains,  whence  these  dark 
waters  spring.  The  tale-bearer  may  flatter 
himself  that  he  speaks  only  truth  of  his  neigh- 
bors ;  but  the  bare  truth  will  not  long  satisfy 
his  growing  desire  for  evil-speaking.  Cruel 
hints  and  insinuations  will  next  follow,  till  he 


TALE-BEARING.  63 

separates  very  friends ;  and  after  that  will  come 
deliberate  falsehood,  whereby  the  reputation  of 
another  may  be  wholly  blasted.  *  The  words 
of  the  tale-bearer  are  as  wounds.'  Who  ever 
loved  a  tale-bearer,  a  whisperer,  or  a  busy- 
body in  other  men's  matters  ?  Every  one 
dreads  his  presence,  and  fears  lest  he  himself 
be  the  next  victim  of  his  slanderous  tongue. 

"  History  has  brought  down  to  us  through 
more  than  two  long  centuries  the  name  of 
Birsey  Smith ;  but  a  most  unenviable  fame  is 
his.  Better  far  an  honest  oblivion  !  From  a 
boy,  he  had  been  shunned  for  his  mischief- 
making  propensities ;  and  of  him  it  was  true, 
in  a  most  unfortunate  sense,  that  <  the  boy  is 
father  of  the  man.' 

"  He  was  a  cobbler  by  trade,  and  worked 
around  in  the  houses  of  the  farmers ;  although 
it  was  only  as  a  matter  of  necessity  that 
they  employed  him,  so  contemptible  was  his 
reputation  in  the  little  community  where  he 
dwelt. 


64  MAPLE  HILL. 

"  He  lived  in  Scotland,  in  times  of  persecu- 
tion, when  the  good  and  holy  were  cast  into 
prison,  or  put  to  death  for  conscience'  sake. 
A  bounty  was  offered  for  the  conviction  or  de- 
tection of  any  who  worshiped  God  contrary  to 
the  established  order.  Smith,  who  was  mean, 
covetous,  and  every  way  unlike  what  he  should 
have  been,  professed,  about  this  time,  a  great 
change  of  religious  feeling,  and  desired  to 
unite  himself  to  the  outcast  band  of  disciples. 
With  that  charity  which  thinketh  no  evil,  they 
opened  their  arms  to  receive  him.  For  what, 
thought  they,  could  induce  a  worldly  man  to 
seek  a  position  with  God's  afflicted  ones  —  to 
cast  aside  ease  and  safety,  for  poverty,  perse- 
cution, and  hatred  ?  Before  this,  no  man  on 
earth  had  loved  him,  unless  it  were  a  mother, 
of  which  history  does  not  tell  us  ;  and  people 
who  were  forced  to  employ  him  set  a  double 
watch  on  their  lips  and  guarded  the  words  of 
their  children  while  he  was  with  them. 

"  Now  '  Birsey,'  as  the  boys  scornfully  called 


TALE-BEARING.  65 

Smith,  knew  the  religious  belief  of  all  in  the 
■egion,  and  the  business  of  informer  was  be- 
aming profitable.  He  must  be  able  to  swear 
o  certain  things  considered  disloyal,  before  he 
:ould  '  receive  the  wages  of  unrighteousness.' 
[his  he  could  easily  do,  could  he  but  gain  ad- 
oittance  to  the  hearts  of  his  employers.  And 
pith  this  dark  purpose  he  crept  into  the  trem- 
»ling  fold.  He  attended  the  secret  meetings 
rhere,  in  darkness  and  fear,  the  lowly  wor- 
hipers  lifted  up  their  hearts  to  God,  or  lis- 
ened  to  the  gospel  of  love  and  peace. 

"  After  he  had  gathered  sufficient  for  his 
rarpose,  he  carried  the  information  to  the  au- 
horities,  and  many  were  cast  into  prison ;  while 
he  name  of  the  traitor  remained  a  secret. 

"  At  one  time  there  was  a  meeting  of  those 
rhose  *  souls  cried  out  after  the  Lord.'  They 
elt  themselves  to  be  in  a  '  dry  and  thirsty 
and,  where  no  water  was ; '  and  in  their  dis- 
ress  they  remembered  Him  who  smote  the 
•ock,  and  sent  down  manna  from  heaven.     The 

5 


66  MAPLE  HILL. 

place  where  they  met  was  so  rocky  and  broker 
that  they  felt  secure  from  assault.  And  there 
they  sat  as  in  a  heavenly  place  in  Christ  Jesus 
They  <  sat  under  his  shadow  with  great  de- 
light,' fearing  no  evil. 

"  But  suddenly  a  cry  resounded  througr. 
the  rocky  glen.  '  The  troops  !  the  troops  ! '  11 
was  the  voice  of  Smith  which  gave  the  alarm  j 
and  in  a  moment  all  was  confusion  and  terror, 
Aged  men,  whose  limbs  could  no  longer  beaj 
them  swiftly,  leaned  on  their  staves,  anc 
peered  into  the  darkness  for  some  hole  or  cave 
in  which  to  hide.  Timid  maidens  flew  unpro 
tected,  like  frightened  fawns,  over  the  broac 
moor.  Mothers  with  their  babes,  and  father* 
with  their  children,  flew  with  almost  super- 
natural haste  to  their  lowly  homes.  The  lately 
rapt  band  were  scattered  in  all  directions ;  anc 
yet  none  ever  saw  the  foe.  No  troops  hac 
been  in  the  region;  and  when  Smith's  false 
report  had  scattered  the  assembly,  he  gatherec 
up  the   shawls,   cloaks,    bonnets,  bibles  anc 


TALE-BEARING.  67 

psalm-books,  which  had  been  left  in  the  flight, 
and  bore  them  to  his  home  as  lawful  booty. 

"  The  eyes  of  the  hunted  Christians  were 
now  open,  and  they  saw  that  a  serpent  had  been 
cherished  in  their  bosoms.  He  was  despised 
more  than  ever  by  all  the  neighborhood,  what- 
ever their  religious  standing.  Thenceforth  he 
was  a  hissing  and  a  by-word;  for  he  had 
added  to  all  his  former  crimes  this  Judas-like 
act  against  the  oppressed  Christians. 

"  Some  time  after  this,  he  was  engaged  to 
work  for  a  week  at  the  farm-house  of  a  godly 
man,  named  William  Swan.  He  was  anxious 
to  begin  his  work  very  early  on  Monday  morn- 
ing; but  the  place  was  several  miles  distant 
from  his  house,  and  he  knew  the  strictness 
with  which  this  family  regarded  the  sanctity 
of  the  Sabbath,  and  that  they  would  censure 
him  for  performing  his  journey  the  night  be- 
fore. Smith  was  a  great  coward,  and  dared 
not  take  the  walk  before  day  on  Monday.  He 
firmly  believed  in  ghosts,  witches,  and  fairies, 
and  to  his  guilty  heart  they  all  seemed  spirits 


68  MAPLE  HILL. 

of  evil.  The  breeze  whispering  through  the 
thorn,  or  the  '  caw,  caw  '  of  an  old  crow  from 
her  home  in  the  tree-top,  made  him  frantic 
with  terror. 

"  At  length  his  deceitful  heart  brought  relief. 
He  decided  to  take  holy  time  for  his  walk; 
and,  as  Swan  would  severely  rebuke  him  if  he 
should  know  it,  to  hide  himself  till  daybreak, 
and  then  present  himself  there,  panting,  dusty, 
and  weary,  as  if  just  from  a  long  walk. 

"  Quite  delighted  with  his  own  shrewdness, 
he  went  on,  and  arrived  at  the  farm-house 
while  Swan  was  engaged  in  his  family  devo- 
tions. 

"  The  kitchen  where  they  were  seated  was 
heated  by  a  large  fireplace  in  the  center, 
whose  huge  chimney  made  its  way  through 
a  great  square  opening  overhead  into  a  loft, 
and  thence  through  the  roof.  Into  this  loft, 
smoky  though  it  was,  Birsey  crept  by  an  out- 
side stair,  and  stretched  himself,  chilled  and 
weary,  near  the  chimney  for  the  night. 

After  the  devotions  were  over  below,  one  of 


TALE-BEARING.  69 

tiie  laborers  remarked  that  they  must  be  early 
astir  next  morning,  as  Smith  was  to  be  there. 
His  name  suggested  a  fruitful  theme,  and  the 
children  joined  in  expressing,  in  no  gentle 
terms,  their  opinion  of  the  mean  and  selfish 
man.  Good  William  Swan  caught  a  word  of 
the  scandal,  and,  raising  his  eye  from  his 
book,  reproved  the  young  backbiter,  and  bade 
him  leave  the  sinful  man  in  the  hands  of  God, 
the  righteous  Judge.  He  warned  the  family 
not  to  call  down  the  wrath  of  Heaven  by 
speaking  their  own  words  or  thinking  their 
own  thoughts  on  that  holy  day.  The  little 
ones  meekly  resumed  their  lessons  in  the  cate- 
chism, and  for  half  an  hour  the  silence  was  un- 
broken. 

"  Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  there  fell  upon  the 
stone  hearth  —  ring!  ting!  ting!  —  a  shoe- 
maker's knife !  All  laid  down  their  books  and 
gazed  in  mute  astonishment  at  their  father, 
who  was  no  less  confounded  than  they.  But 
before  there  was  time  for  a  word,  down  came 


70  MAPLE  HILL. 

an  awl !  —  whence,  no  one  saw.  These  were 
the  very  implements  used  by  the  man  against 
whom  they  had  been  speaking.  The  affrighted 
and  superstitious  laborers,  ghastly  pale,  whis- 
pered that  it  was  an  omen  for  evil ;  for  they 
were  sure  that  no  such  tools  belonging  to 
mortals  were  ever  left  in  the  smoky  loft  over- 
head. They  gazed  upward  into  the  awful 
opening,  when  down  came  heavily  what  looked 
like  a  man,  but  what  they  were  sure  was  the 
embodiment  of  all  evil,  —  down  into  a  bed  of 
burning  coals! 

"  The  family  fled  in  terror ;  but  the  father, 
a^j^er-hearted  than  they,  ran  to  the  rescue 
of  the  mysterious  visitor.  Birsey  was  raked 
from  out  the  coals  and  ashes,  with  his  clothes 
burned  and  his  hair  singed  close  to  his  head. 
He  then  confessed  to  the  farmer  how  he  had 
hidden  in  the  loft  to  conceal  from  him  his  Sab- 
bath-breaking, and  had  heard  all  that  was  said 
of  him,  until,  overcome  with  heat  and  smoke, 
he  fell  asleep.     Turning  round,  he  must  have 


TALE-BEARING.  71 

dropped  first  his  knife  and  awl  and  then  him- 
self, into  the  fire.  After  a  stern  rebuke,  he 
was  pardoned  and  provided  with  more  agree- 
able lodgings  for  the  night. 

"  The  end  of  this  man,  whose  deceit  and  tale- 
bearing had  been  the  means  of  shedding  inno- 
cent blood,  was  truly  awful.  People  at  last 
feared  to  employ  him,  and  he  became  an  out- 
cast. His  conscience  scourged  him  on  account 
of  the  fearful  sins  he  had  committed*  and  for 
a  long  time  he  was  a  vagabond  on  the  earth. 
One  day,  his  body  was  found  suspended  in  an 
out-house  belonging  to  William  Swan — dead. 
No  money  could  induce  the  workmen  to  bury 
him ;  and  it  was  only  done  by  a  command  of  a 
neighboring  earl  to  some  of  his  own  menials. 
They  dug  the  suicide's  grave  on  the  boundary 
of  two  counties,  a  spot  which  was  considered 
neutral  ground.  None  wanted  him  laid  in  the 
quiet  churchyard,  where  his  dust  would  mingle 
with  that  of  their  loved  and  honored  dead. 
William  Swan  tore  down  the  building  in  which 


72  MAPLE  HILL. 

had  been  committed  the  fearful  deed.  The 
name  of  the  wretched  man  is  not  even  suffered 
to  perish,  but  comes  down  to  us,  connected 
only  with  deceit,  treachery  and  crime.,, 

"  Is  that  the  end,  Auntie  ?  "  asked  Jennie. 
"  Certainly,  my  love  ;  there  could  be  no 
more  after  he  was  dead,"  replied  Miss  Thorne. 
"  Why,"  exclaimed  Ned,  « I  never  knew 
before  that  tattlers  and  busy-bodies  were  ever 
men.  I  thought  aU  the  gossips  and  mischief- 
makers  were  tvo?nen." 

'''  Well,  Sir,  you  see  your  mistake ;  and  I 
assure  you  there  are  a  great  many  men  mean 
enough  nowadays  to  do  just  as  poor,  miser- 
able Eirsey  Smith  did,  if  they  had  the  same 
temptation.  A  noble  heart,  whether  in  the 
breast  of  a  man  or  a  woman,  will  scorn  a  mean 
action.  People  often  have  such  sins  in  their 
breasts,  and  do  not  know  it  themselves.  We 
should  pray,  as  David  did,  to  God,  —  <  Cleanso 
thou  me  from  secret  faults.'  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

GOOD  NATURE. THE  BABY'S  TOOTH. 

"Well,  Master  JSTed,"  asked  Aunt  Lucy 
is  she  sat  surrounded  by  the  family  and  a 
lew  little  friends  on  the  piazza,  "  how  would 
fou.  like  a  blazing  fire  to-night  ?  " 

Ned  fanned  away  vigorously  and  replied, 
*  Not  at  all,  Auntie ;  it  was  so  raw  and  cold 
ast  night  that  I  forgot  how  heat  felt ;  but 
[  know  to-night !  " 

"  What  is  your  story  for  this  evening,  Sister 
Lucy  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Carrol.  "  I  hope  it  is  a 
rery  interesting  one,  for  I  have  leisure  to  be 
t  listener." 

"  Well,  Sir,"  said  Miss  Thorne,  laughing, 
6  it  is  a  very  small  subject  for  so  large  a 
gentleman  as  you  to  hear  about.  I'm  going 
x>  tell  now  about  a  baby" 


74  MAPLE  HILL. 

THE  BABY'S  TOOTH. 

"  Some  people  think  babies  do  no  good  in 
the  world,  but  only  live  here  to  torment  those 
who  want  to  have  quiet  and  order.  But  I 
think  they  are  real  little  missionaries,  making 
others  better  by  their  smiles,  and  lifting  heavy 
loads  of  care  off  many  hearts  by  their  artless 
ways. 

"  Well,  years  and  years  ago,  when  there 
were  few  cars  and  when  people  had  to  jolt 
over  shocking  roads  in  great  lumbering  stage- 
coaches, the  circumstance  I  am  going  to  tel] 
took  place.  I  can  remember  the  time  well. 
I  assure  you  it  was  no  holiday  sport  to  go 
'  out  West,'  as  people  then  called  a  good  part 
of  New  York  State.  It  would  not  do  for  del- 
icate folks  to  travel  then !  There  were  very 
few  wedding  tours.     But  of  this  journey ! 

"  The  evening  coach  was  fall  — '  so  full  that 
it  was  an  imposition  on  the  passengers '  — 
so  said  Miss  Trimmer,  who,  with  two  or  three 


GOOD  NATURE.  75 

)attern  hats  and  a  box  of  artificial  flowers, 
yas  the  last  one  to  enter,  notwithstanding  the 
nconvenience  to  which  she  put  her  fellow- 
>assengers. 

"  The  village  squire  —  never  too  amiable  — 
*as  returning  from  court,  where  he  had  been 
lonsuited  in  a  case  involving  about  a  fiftieth 
oart  of  his  estate  ;  of  course,  he  was  morose 
and  impatient.  A  worn-looking  woman  was 
trying  to  quiet  a  restless  baby  by  tossing  it 
up  where  there  was  not  room  to  toss  a  bird, 
because  a  simpering  school-girl  on  the  next 
seat  had  whispered  aloud  to  her  very  young 
gallant,  that  <  babies  were  a  perfect  nuisance 
in  a  stage-coach,  and  that  she  Should  think 
any  one  would  rather  stay  at  home  than  travel 
with  one.'  Poor,  unfortunate  baby  ;  poor, 
sensitive,  widowed  mother!  Theirs  was  no 
pleasure  trip ;  they  were  going,  uncertain  of 
a  welcome,  to  a  rich  relative  of  the  newly 
dead,  the  only  one  on  earth  of  whom  they 
could  ask  aid.     Comfort  or  pity  the  mother 


76  MAPLE  HILL. 

did  not  look  for.  It  was  between  these  an 
the  surly  squire  that  Miss  Trimmer  insertei 
herself.  At  the  cruel  remark  of  the  incipien 
belle,  the  widow  turned  her  head  to  wip 
away  a  tear,  when  her  innocent  half-yearlinj 
grasped  with  her  plump  hand  a  huge  bunc] 
of  honeysuckles  and  carnation  pinks  whicl 
dangled  from  the  near  side  of  Miss  Trim 
mer's  -bonnet. 

"  i  Will  no  one  take  pity  on  me?'  shrieke( 
the  bearer  of  the  flower  burden.  <  Will  n< 
gentleman  shield  me  from  such  annoyances  ? 
"  <  Yes,  Madam,  I  will,'  answered  an  olc 
gentleman  who  sat  in  a  corner,  resting  his 
chin  upon  the  ivory  head  of  his  cane.  The 
lady  was  soon  safely  installed  in  the  seat 
farthest  removed  from  the  vicious  baby,  and 
the  old  man  in  her  place.  Now  this  cramped- 
up  child  was  a  perfect  democrat.  She  did  not 
know  that  she  was  poor  and  fatherless ;  nor 
that,  when  he  lived,  her  father  was  only  a 
hard-working  bricklayer.     She  knew  nothing 


GOOD  NATURE.  77 

all  this,  and  seemed  to  think  she  had  as 
tod  a  right  to  shout  and  crow  as  any  other 
Jby,  and  to  pull  flowers  out  of  bonnets,  too, 

she  could  only  reach  them.  So  at  the  new- 
mer  she  went.  Her  first  effort  was  to  se- 
ire  his  white  beard,  but  that  was  immovable, 
le  next  reached  out  her  hand  for  the  seals, 
id  lastly  grasped  the  cane.  '  Well,  little 
ch,'  cried  the  dear  old  man,  '  if  you  want 

get  at  my  seals,  you  had  better  come  a 
itle  nearer.'  So  he  took  the  willing  baby 
om  the  weary  mother  and  installed  her  on 
s  own  knee.  The  poor  woman  straightened 
jrself  and  drew  a  long  breath,  as  if  relieved 
om  a  burden  she  had  not  strength  to  bear. 

"  '  You  look  tired,  Madam  ;  have  you  come 
I  to-day  ? '  asked  the  merciful  man. 

" '  I've  held  the  baby,  Sir,  thirty-six  hours 
.  the  cars  before  I  got  into  the  coach,'  she 
iswered  with  a  quivering  lip. 

" '  I  don't  see  how  any  one  can  take  care 
:  a  tiresome  baby,'  again  whispered  the  little 


78  MAPLE  HILL. 

"'  Somebody  held  us  all  once,  and  took 
care  of  us,  too,  my  child,'  replied  the  olJ 
gentleman,  whose  ears  were  too  keen  to 
lose  her  remark.  <  Children  must  be  taken 
care  of;  they  have  their  work  to  do,  and! 
they  generally  do  it  faithfully.'  And  hel 
rattled  his  seals  and  key  again  for  the  hap- 
py child. 

"  The  poor  mother  cast  a  look  of  unmin~j 
gled  gratitude  on  her  benefactor  —  yes,  bene-} 
factor  he  was,  though  he  had  never  given  her 
a  crust  nor  a  copper ;  for  kind  words  ar  J 
often  better  than  either.  This  good  man  alone  j 
of  all  the  passengers  —  save  the  unconscious^ 
baby — seemed  at  his  ease. 

"At  length  the  horses  stood  still,  and  all; 
seemed  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  having  the! 
company  thinned.  Miss  Trimmer  looked  hope-J 
fully  at  the  widow  and  baby,  but  they  did  nol 
move.  An  anxious,  care-worn  gentleman  beJ 
gan  to  unwedge  himself  preparatory  to  alight-l 
ing.     Then   in  the   deepening   twilight   there! 


GOOD  NATURE.  79 

bounded  from  the  dwelling,  beside  which  the 
coach  had  halted,  a  curly-headed  boy  of  four 
years.  '  0  Pa,  Pa,'  he  shouted,  as  the  pater- 
nal head  emerged  from  the  coach-door, '  I've 
good  news  for  you ;  you  can't  guess  what  has 
happened  to-day.'  And  clapping  his  chubby 
hands  and  dancing  for  joy,  he  exclaimed, '  0 
Papa,  the  baby's  got  a  tooth. !\  There  was 
a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  in  the  coach. 
The  passengers  all  laughed  heartily  at  the 
vast  importance  of  the  news  from  that  little 
world,  home.  Miss  Trimmer  put  her  head  out 
of  the  coach-window  and  exclaimed,  '  What  a 
darling  little  fellow  ! '  The  coachman  forgot 
to  crack  his  whip  for  a  whole  minute  as  he 
gazed  at  the  happy  boy.  The  father  turned 
round,  smiled,  raised  his  hat,  and  said  '  good- 
by '  to  his  fellow-travelers.  The  surly  squire 
laughed  and  drew  home  his  feet,  which  had  all 
the  way  been  stretched  out  on  the  widow's 
territory,  to  her  great  inconvenience,  saying, 
1  Beg  your  pardon,  Ma'am.'    Even  Miss  Trim 


80  MAPLE  HILL. 

mer  was  softened,  for  she  opened  the  cover  of 
her  reticule  and  gave  the  offending  baby  a 
stick  of  candy,  saying,  '  Poor  little  thing,  she 
must  have  something  to  amuse  her.' 

" '  Well,'  cried  the  laughing  school-girl,  '  I 
do  love  children,  after  all  —  they  are  so  funny 
I  can't  help  it ! ' 

" '  Never  try  to  help  it,  child,'  said  the 
baby's  benefactor.  *  They  ought  to  be  loved, 
for  they  do  a  great  deal  for  us  grown  folks. 
Now  don't  you  see  that  rosy  boy,  with  the 
news  of  the  great  acquisition  to  his  family  treas- 
ures, —  a  tooth  for  the  baby,  —  has  changed  a 
coach-full  of  anxious  and  ill-tempered  people 
into  a  cheerful  and  even  kind-hearted  com- 
pany ?  Don't  you  see  how  he  has  made 
friends  for  my  little  companion  here  who  is 
too  young  to  speak  for  herself  ?  Why,  we 
are  all  better  now  for  riding  with  this  little 
one,  and  my  word  for  it,  you'll  think  of  her 
after  you  go  home,  too.'  Then,  turning  to 
the  widow,  he  asked  her  to  whose  house  she 


GOOD  NATURE.  81 

was  going.  When  she  answered  him,  he  said, 
4  Oh,  it's  too  far  to  ride  to-night  with  the  poor 
tired  baby ;  stop  and  rest  with  us  ;  grand- 
mother will  give  even  a  strange  baby  a  wel- 
come, for  we've  just  buried  our  pet  at  home,— 
my  daughter's  little  one.  She  made  the  house 
very  cheerful  for  us,  but  she's  gone  ;  but  not 
forgotten !  No,  I  believe  grandmother  loves 
all  babies  better  since  she  died ;  so  don't  be 
afraid  of  intruding.'  Moved  by  such  kindness, 
the  widow  in  an  under-tone  told  her  painful 
errand  to  her  new  friend.  *  Ah,  ah  ! '  he  said, 
[  well,  your  relative  is  a  kind  man,  if  you  go 
at  him  just  the  right  way,  and  folks  say  I 
know  how  to  manage  him  as  well  as  any  body. 
In  the  morning  I'll  drive  you  over  there,  and 
present  your  case  in  the  most  judicious  man- 
ner. Never  fear,  he'll  be  kind  to  you;  so 
keep  up  good  heart,  my  poor  friend.' 

"  Overcome  by  such  unlooked-for  kindness, 
she  wept  out  the  tears  which  had  all  day  been 
gathering  in  their  fountain  under  the  cold  look 


1 


82  MAPLE  HILL. 

and  sarcastic  words  of  those  around  her.  Mist 
Trimmer,  who,  when  not  in  a  hurry  or  a  crowd, 
was  really  a  kind-hearted  woman,  looked  com- 
passionately at  the  faint  effort  the  young  widow 
had  made  toward  wearing  black  for  the  dead. 
'  Won't  you  call  at  my  shop  with  the  lady,  as 
you  go  by  in  the  morning,  Mr.  Bond  ? '  she 
asked  ;  ' 1  should  like  to  speak  with  her ; 
and  again  she  glanced  at  the  straw  hat  with 
its  band  of  thin  black  ribbon,  with  an  expres- 
sion which  promised  a  new  one. 

"  '  Well,  here  we  are,  my  friend,'  cried  the 
old  man,  as  the  coach  stopped  before  an  old 
brown  mansion,  *  and  there  is  grandmothei 
in  the  door  waiting  for  us.'  The  little  belle 
offered  to  hold  the  baby  while  the  mother 
alighted,  and  the  softened  squire  handed  out 
her  carpet-bag  and  basket.  i  Good-night '  — 
crack  went  the  whip  —  and  the  cheerful  trav- 
elers rode  on  to  their  own  homes.  Light  and 
warmth  and  a  cordial  welcome  for  the  night 
and   prosperity   on  the   morrow   awaited   the 


GOOD  NATURE.  83 

lonely  widow,  i  and  all,'  so  said  her  noble 
friend,  '  because  a  baby  had  a  tooth,  and  his 
little  brother  told  of  it ! '  " 

"  When  Jesus  tells  us, *  of  such  is  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,'  I'm  quite  willing  to  receive 
his  word,"  said  Mr.  Carrol ;  "  for  since  we  laid 
our  sweet  little  Johnnie  in  the  grave,  the  hope 
of  seeing  him  there,  still  a  baby,  has  added 
new  charms  to  heaven  for  me." 

Mrs.  Carrol  wiped  away  a  tear  and  said, 
"  Heaven  has  been  sweeter  to  me  also  since 
that  day ;  and  when  I  look  sometimes  at  my 
other  children,  so  happy  and  so  loving,  it 
almost  breaks  my  heart  to  think  that  they 
never  saw  and  never  loved  the  first  lamb  of 
the  fold.  But  in  a  moment  I  remember  that 
he  is  not  lost  to  us,  but  resting  for  a  season 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Good  Shepherd.  Then 
I  rejoice  that  when  at  last  we  shall  be  gath- 
ered in  glory,  he  will  be  with  us  and  one  of 
the  dear  little  band.     It  is  a  holy  thought, 


84  MAPLE  HILL. 

{  We  have  a  baby  in  heaven  ; '  and  let  us  all 
try  to  love  Jesus  that  we  may  dwell  for  ever 
with  him  and  the  dear  ones  who  wait  for  us 
there." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TBUST  AND    CHEERFULNESS.  —  HUNTING  FOR 
STARS. 

"  It  is  our  turn  to-night,  Auntie,"  said  Ned, 
"  to  have  a  story  —  Joe's  and  mine.  Do  you 
know  one  about  sailors  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  the  sea,  Ned, 
but  I  have  known  a  good  many  who  passed 
most  of  their  lives  on  it,"  said  Miss  Thorne. 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  the  boy. 

"  I  had  a  lovely  brother  who  would  go  from 
home  as  a  sailor.  He  loved  the  very  sound  of 
the  storm,  and  said  the  flapping  of  the  canvas 
made  him  feel  as  if  he  must  fly,"  replied  the 
aunt. 

"  Which  uncle  is  it  ?  "  asked  Jennie. 

"  Charlie,  dear ;  he  died  of  yellow  fever  in 
a  strange  land,  long  before  you  were  born. 


86  MAPLE  HILL. 

But  to-night  let  me  tell  you  about  our  old 
neighbor  and  his  grandson,  who  always  looked 
on  the  bright  side." 

HUNTING  FOR  STARS. 

"  *  I  knew  we  should  have  a  storm,'  said  an 
aged  man  as  he  rose  from  his  easy-chair  and 
looked  out  upon  the  darkness.  i  I  told  you  so 
yesterday,  Clara.  When  I  see  white  caps  off 
the  beach  I  always  think  of  the  poor  sailor  on 
the  coast.  I  don't  like  this  coasting  business 
at  all,  —  there's  twice  the  danger  with  half  the 
profit  of  foreign  voyages.  I  wish,  Clara,  you 
would  consent  to  let  Frank  go  to  sea  as  he 
I  wants  to  ;  I  should  feel  less  anxiety  for  him  in 
a  storm  than  I  now  do.' 

"  '  But  you  know,  Father,'  replied  the  lady, 
'  we  see  him  so  much  oftener  now,  and  I  have 
so  dreaded  the  open  sea  ever  since  his  father 
was  lost.  It  seemed  so  strange  that  no  life  but 
a  sailor's  would  do  for  Frank  ;  my  heart  sinks 
at  the  thought  of  his  making  it  his  life  busi- 


TRUST  AND  CHEERFULNESS.  87 

"  *  Not  strange  at  all  that  he  loves  the  sea/ 
replied  the  old  man  ;  '  'twas  born  in  him,  child  ; 
and  now,  if  I  had  my  life  to  live  over  again,  1 
would  be  nothing  but  a  sailor.' 

" '  Well,  I  suppose,'  replied  the  lady,  *  I  must 
give  up  my  will  in  the  matter.  He  is  a  dear 
good  boy,  and  I  know  it  cost  him  a  great 
struggle  before  he  consented  to  compromise 
the  matter  by  going  in  a  coaster.  I  suppose 
I  must  spend  my  days  looking  for  clouds  and 
storms.' 

"  i  Oh,  ho,'  exclaimed  the  old  man,  rising 
and  looking  out  again, '  a  regular  north-easter. 
But  maybe  they  didn't  sail  on  the  seventeenth, 
Clara.  When  I  was  among  ships  they  used  to 
say  that  a  coaster  might  sail  any  day  of  the 
week  but  the  one  for  which  she  was  advertised. 
If  they  remained  in  port  twenty-four  hours 
after  their  time,  they  will  not  reach  the  rocks 
until  the  storm  is  over.' 

"  *  I  hope,'  said  the  mother,  '  that  God  will 
protect  him  wherever  he  is,  for  thicker  darkness 


88  MAPLE  HILL. 

I  never  saw.  But  the  wind  has  gone  down 
since  sunset,  Father ;  it  seems  very  calm  now.' 

" '  Resting,  perhaps,  to  blow  with  new  fury,' 
said  the  old  man,  *  for  it  does  not  seem  as  if 
such  a  heavy  storm  could  have  passed  over  so 
soon.  Let  the  boy  go  to  India  as  he  wants  to, 
and  take  my  word,  Clara,  when  he's  once  off,  a 
year's  absence  will  not  seem  so  long  as  a  quar- 
ter does  now.  Why,  child,  when  I  was  trad- 
ing among  the  Islands,  your  mother  used  to  get 
along  alone  for  eighteen  months  at  a  time,  and 
never  complain.' 

" *  But,  Father,'  said  the  lady, '  mother  was 
so  cheerful  and  patient,  always  hoping  and 
looking  on  the  bright  side ;  I  often  smile  now 
as  I  think  how  she  used  to  keep  up  her  own 
courage  and  mine  when  you  were  gone.  When 
the  weather  was  fine,  she  used  to  say,  "  I've  no 
doubt  it  is  just  as  bright  and  calm  where  father 
is,"  —  then  when  it  stormed  furiously  she  would 
say*  "  It  is  not  at  all  likely  this  reaches  out  so 
far  at  sea  as  they  must  be  now." '    The  old 


TRUST  AND  CHEERFULNESS.  89 

man  laughed  nervously,  but  in  a  moment  he 
pressed  his  brow  upon  the  ivory  top  of  his  staff, 
and  wiped  away  the  tears  which  fond  old  mem- 
ories brought  to  his  faded  eyes. 

"  c  But,  father,  I  haven't  her  strong  trust  to 
sustain  me,'  said  the  widow. 

"  '  No,  child,  no,  you  haven't, — you're  more 
like  me,'  was  the  reply.  '  Poor  mother  !  she 
didn't  make  much  stir  in  the  world  when  she 
was  here,  but  she  left  a  wide  place  empty 
when  she  went  away.  It  seems  a  lonely  world 
to  me  since  her  head  was  laid  low.  Her  gray 
hair  was  a  crown  of  glory  to  her,  but  she  wears 
a  brighter  crown  now.  Oh,  Clara!  I  shall 
never  cease  thinking  of  her  last  night  on  earth, 
—  the  night  of  her  triumph.  When  Frank 
came  in  so  unexpectedly  she  looked  so  happy, 
and  said,  "  I  felt  as  if  I  should  not  be  suffered 
to  go  till  I  had  put  my  hand  on  that  boy's  head 
and  blessed  him."  I  said,  "  Now  you  are  sat- 
isfied, are  you  r.ot,  mother  ? "  "  No,"  she 
replied,  "  not  yet,  but  I  shall  be  when  I  awake 


90  MAPLE  HILL. 

in  His  likeness."  She's  satisfied  to-night, 
Clara,  while  you  and  I  sit  here  worrying  about 
the  boy  she  blessed.' 

" '  It  is  wrong,  father,'  said  the  widow,  as 
she  saw  the  tears  falling  fast, '  it  is  wrong  to 
distrust  God  in  this  way.  Come,  let's  go  into 
the  sitting-room  where  there  is  a  cheerful  fire ; 
it  always  makes  you  feel  lonely  to  sit  by  this 
dull  stove.' 

"  '  I'm  all  broke  to  pieces,  Clara,'  said  the 
old  man  rising,  '  and  sometimes  I  do  wish 
Frank  would  stay  on  shore.  There  are  so  few 
left  me  now,  that  I  think  I  should  feel  younger 
and  stronger  if  I  could  have  them  around  me.' 

"  '  I  had  strong  hopes,'  replied  the  lady, 
'  that  Frank  would  grow  up  to  be  a  companion 
for  me  and  a  useful  man  in  the  world.  But 
his  whole  heart  seems  set  on  the  billows  and  on 
wealth.' 

"  *  He  may  be  a  sailor  and  yet  do  much 
good,'  said  the  old  man.  '  If  he  gets  money, 
he  may  honor  God  with  that.' 


TRUST  AND   CHEERFULNESS.  91 

"  '  He'll  never  hoard  it  up  for  himself,'  said 
the  mother, '  for  he  has  your  heart,  father.' 

"  They  entered  the  parlor  and  the  old  man 
sat  down  before  the  blazing  fire,  in  the  chair 
which  his  daughter  had  rolled  in  for  him.  He 
placed  his  cane  in  the  corner  of  the  fireplace, 
and  was  arranging  the  sticks  to  give  a  yet 
brighter  fight,  when  the  widow  exclaimed, 
?  Why,  there  is  little  Joe  behind  the  window 
curtain !  I  thought  you  went  to  bed  an  hour 
ago,  my  boy.' 

"  '  I  was  on  my  way  up-stairs,  mother,'  re- 
plied the  boy,  '  but  I  stopped  here  at  the  win- 
dow a  moment.  Then  I  sat  down  in  the  win- 
dow-seat to  hunt  for  stars.  You  know  the  sky 
is  so  large,  mother,  that  it  took  me  a  long  time 
to  look  all  over  it.' 

"  The  mother  smiled  at  the  simplicity  of  her 
child,  but  the  grandfather  said,  t  You  will  look 
a  long  time,  Joe,  before  you  find  a  star  in  this 
dark  sky.' 

« <  Why,  dear  Grandpa,'  said  the  boy  earnest- 


92  MAPLE  HILL. 

ly,  *  I  found  one  some  time  ago,  and  now  I  see 
another.  A  heavy  cloud  has  just  broken  and 
now  the  stars  are  beginning  to  peep  through.' 
The  old  man  looked  incredulous.  He  rose, 
and  standing  by  the  boy,  looked  out,  and  said, 
*  I  don't  see  a  single  star,  Joe.' 

"  '  That's  because  you  have  not  looked  long 
enough,  Grandpa ;  fix  your  eye  up  there,'  he 
said,  pointing  to  the  broken  cloud,  c  and  if  you 
wait  a  moment,  you'll  see  stars.  They  look 
pale,  but  they'll  soon  be  brighter,  for  the  cloud 
is  moving  away  from  them.' 

"J  I  see  them  now,  Joe,  my  darling,'  ex- 
claimed the  old  man,  laying  his  hand  fondly  on 
the  curly  head.  6  Come  here,  Clara,  and  see 
if  God  can  not  scatter  the  cloud  which  shadows 
Frank's  pathway  home. 

"  Ye  fearful  saints,  fresh  courage  take ; 
The  clouds  ye  so  much  dread, 
Are  big  with  mercy,  and  shall  break 
In  blessings  on  your  head." 

" '  But  tell  me,  my  boy,  what  made  you 


TRUST  AND   CHEERFULNESS.  93 

think  of  hunting  for  stars  amid  the  thick  dark- 
ness ? ' 

"  6 1  noticed,  Sir,'  said  the  child,  '  that  ever 
since  we  have  been  expecting  Frank  home, 
you  and  mother  have  been  all  the  time  look- 
ing for  clouds  and  storm.  So,  after  the  rain 
and  wind  came,  I  thought  I  would  look  for 
starlight,  and  perhaps  that  would  come  too  ;  I 
always  find  when  I  want  any  good  thing  and 
look  patiently  for  it,  I  am  sure  to  find  it.' 

" '  Hear  that,  Clara  ? '  said  the  old  man. 
i  Doesn't  that  sound  just  like  your  mother  ? ' 

"  And  the  clouds  broke  and  flew  away,  the 
rain  ceased  and  the  winds  were  hushed. 

"  It  was  a  cheerful  little  group  which  gather- 
ed round  the  sparkling  fire  the  next  evening. 
How  joyfully  both  grandfather  and  mother 
gazed  into  the  hopeful  face  of  Frank,  as  he  told 
how,  amid  the  wind  and  darkness  of  the  pre- 
vious night,  they  had  striven  to  keep  off  from 
the  rocky  coast,  and  how  rejoiced  they  were 
when,  contrary  to  all  weather-signs,  the  wind 


94  MAPLE  HILL. 

ceased  blowing  and  the  stars  came  out  to  guide 
them  to  their  desired  haven.  How  joyfully  did 
the  brave  boy  listen  to  the  story  of  little  Joe 
hunting  for  the  stars  for  his  dear  sake  !  How 
patiently  did  he  hear  his  mother's  warning  not 
to  set  his  heart  on  this  world,  and  her  expres- 
sions of  fear  for  his  future  life.  When  she 
spoke  of  her  hopes  and  prayers  over  his  cradle, 
that  he  might  grow  up  to  love  God,  and  to 
serve  him  as  a  minister  or  a  missionary,  he  re- 
plied '  But,  dearest  mother,  all  the  good  men 
must  not  be  missionaries  ;  some  must  make 
money  to  sustain  those  who  preach  the  gospel. 
I  will  try  to  be  one  of  this  class  ;  but  to  sea  I 
must  go !  I  cannot  breathe  freely  on  shore 
more  than  a  month  at  a  time.' 

"  '  Just  as  I  felt  when  I  was  young,'  said 
the  old  man.  '  You  must  let  him  go  to  India 
once,  Clara.  Who  can  tell  but  God  may  make 
him  a  blessing  there.' 

"  4  Oh,  Mother,'  said  the  boy,  '  I  long  to  go 
abroad,  but  I  never  will  without  your  consent.1 


TRUST  AND  CHEERFULNESS.  95 

"  The  fond  heart  of  the  old  man  ceased  not 
to  beat  till  he  had  welcomed  Frank  again  and 
again  from  foreign  lands ;  till  he  had  seen  his 
ambition  chastened,  and  gold  sought  for  a 
nobler  purpose  than  to  gratify  the  pride  of 
life.  And  when  he  slept  in  the  dust,  the 
widow  was  spared  to  see  her  mother's  blessing 
fall  upon  her  first-born.  She  lived  to  know 
that  her  early  prayers  for  him  were  answered ; 
that,  although  not  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  he 
was  doing  a  work  which  no  Christian  at  home 
can  do  for  his  brother  in  heathen  lands,  and 
what  no  missionary  can  do  for  his  fellow- 
laborer.  When  abroad  he  held  up  the  droop- 
ing hands  of  God's  servants  to  the  Gentiles ; 
on  the  sea  he  was  the  honored  instrument  of 
cheering  the  fainting  heart,  of  supporting  the 
aching  head,  and  of  holding  to  the  parched 
lips  of  the  missionary  the  cup  of  cold  water, 
for  Christ's  sake.  Many  the  fears  he  quelled, 
many  the  tears  he  wiped  away,  many  the  acts 
of  love  which  none  but  a  Christian  seaman 


96  MAPLE  HILL. 

could  perform,  registered  beneath  his  name  on 
high,  when  his  mother  was  no  more. 

"  Surely  light  arose  to  that  mother  in  her 
darkness,  and  even  while  she,  distrustfully, 
was  looking  for  clouds  and  tempest,  the  God 
of  the  widow  and  the  Father  of  the  fatherless 
was  removing  everything  which  prevented  the 
stars  from  lighting  her  darkness. 

"  '  Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 
But  trust  him  for  his  grace ; 
Behind  a  frowning  providence 
He  hides  a  smiling  face.' " 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

BITTER  WORDS. — THE   STORY  OP   LITTLE   KITTY. 

"  Saturday  night  come  so  soon ! "  exclaimed 
Aunt  Lucy,  as  the  little  group  gathered  round 
her  in  the  parlor.  "  *  Another  six  days'  work 
is  done ; '  I  wonder  what  messages  all  these 
seconds  and  minutes  and  hours  and  days  have 
borne  to  heaven!  What  have  we  done  to 
make  ourselves  better  and  others  happier? 
Have  we  overcome  any  sin  which  has  been 
lurking  in  our  hearts ;  or  have  we  cherished  all 
these,  and  committed  new  ones?  Are  we 
nearer  heaven,  dear  little  ones,  or  farther  from 
it  than  we  were  last  Saturday  night  ?  When 
we  go  away  alone,  let  us  ask  our  hearts  these 
questions,  and  pray  God  for  grace  to  live  to 
him.  The  story  I  have  for  you  to-night  will 
teach  you  to  treat  each  other  from  day  to  day 

7 


98  MAPLE  HILL. 

just  as  if  each  was  to  be  your  last  meeting 
together ;  so  that,  should  death  come  suddenly 
to  any  one  of  you,  you  will  have  no  guilt  on 
your  conscience,  for  having  spoken  harshly  or 
acted  cruelly  to  those  whose  pardon  you  can 
not  ask." 

"  I  often  wish,"  said  Mrs.  Carrol,  "  that  I 
could  recall  a  few  harsh  words  I  once  said  to 
a  poor  girl,  who  lived  as  a  domestic  with  my 
mother  when  I  was  not  older  than  Ned.  She 
was  apt  to  be  very  fretful,  and  used  to  scold 
when  we  touched  any  thing  in  the  kitchen.  I 
one  day  heard  my  mother  say  she  could  not 
keep  her  on  this  account ;  so,  going  into  the 
kitchen,  and  meeting  with  the  usual  treatment, 
I  said  in  a  passion, '  Scold  away,  old  Margery 
Pool,  as  fast  as  you  can,  or  else  you  won't  get 
through  before  you  go.' 

"  \  Go  where  ? '  asked  the  girl  in  surprise. 

"  '  Home  to  your  father's ;  my  mother  says 
you  sha'n't  stay  here  and  scold  her  children 
any  longer.     I  hope  you'll  go  as  quick  as 


BITTER  WORDS.  99 

you  can,  for  we  are  all  sick  of  the  sight  of 
you.' 

"  I  never  shall  forget,"  continued  Mrs. 
Carrol,  "  the  look  of  utter  despair  with  which 
she  threw  her  blue  apron  over  her  face  and  sank 
into  a  chair.  Then  she  sobbed  out, '  Nobody- 
knows  how  hard  I  try  to  do  right;  but  half 
the  time  I'm  too  sick  to  work  at  all.  Your 
mother  will  have  all  right  in  the  kitchen,  and 
when  you  come  in  and  clatter  it  up  when  I 
am  too  tired  to  go  over  it  again,  I  can't  help 
scolding.  Oh,  dear !  it's  a  poor  home  I've  got 
to  go  to  —  it's  a  drunkard's  home ;  and,  more 
than  that,  mother's  looking  for  my  wages  to 
buy  winter  clothes  for  the  children.' 

"  When  tea  was  over  that  evening,  we  called 
and  rang  the  bell,  but  Margery  was  nowhere 
to  be  found.  She  had  taken  her  little  paper- 
covered  trunk  in  her  arms,  and  walked  away 
four  miles  to  her  miserable  home  in  a  forlorn 
neighborhood.  I  felt  very  guilty,  and  told  my 
mother  what  I  had  said.     She  blamed  me 


100  MAPLE  HILL. 

very  much,  and  said,  '  I,  who  was  a  happy 
child,  ought  to  be  more  tender  of  the  feelings 
of  the  poor ;  and  that  she  should  ride  over  to 
Pine  Hollow,  to  give  Margery  her  wages,  and 
should  insist  on  my  going  with  her  to  ask  her 
pardon.'  But  before  the  time  came,  Mar- 
gery's mother  walked  over  for  the  money. 
She  said  her  girl  was  very  sick,  and  kept  re- 
peating all  the  time, '  Oh,  Mother,  I  tried  so 
hard  to  help  you!  I  shall  never  scold  any 
more.'  And  the  poor  thing  died  with  a  fever 
which  had  been  hanging  about  her  for  weeks. 
I  prayed  God  to  forgive  my  cruelty,  and  I 
hope  he  has  done  so ;  but  to  this  day  it  is  a 
blot  on  my  memory,  which  I  would  give  a 
great  deal  to  wash  away.  But,  Lucy,  dear, 
the  children  are  waiting  for  your  story,  so  I 
will  detain  you  no  longer." 

"  It  will  be  much  the  same  as  yours,  only 
this  is  of  a  little  sister,  instead  of  a  servant. 
I  well  remember  the  time  when  Margery  left 
us.     Mother  took  us  to  the  funeral,  that  we 


BITTER  WORDS.  101 

might  see  a  drunkard's  home,  and  learn  to  feel 
for  the  little  children  there.  Oh,  what  deso- 
lation was  there !  The  old  man  sat  with  his 
hands  over  his  eyes,  as  if  ashamed  to  look 
any  one  in  the  face ;  and  well  he  might  bes 
for  the  dead  girl  wore  her  life  out  trying  to 
feed  him  in  idleness,  and  to  keep  the  family 
from  starvation.  My  story  to-night  is  about  a 
little  girl  I  knew  in  my  youth." 

LITTLE    KITTY. 

"  Little  Kitty  was  a  bright,  merry,  and  af- 
fectionate girl  of  fourteen.  She  was  ever  ready 
to  oblige,  and  being  the  child  of  an  invalid 
mother  and  the  sister  of  two  gay  and  fashion- 
able young  ladies,  she  never  lacked  for  oppor- 
tunity to  exercise  this  amiable  quality.  She 
was  the  helper  of  every-body,  from  the  sick 
mother  down  to  the  cook.  The  mother  called 
on  her  because  she  came  with  a  step  so  soft 
and  a  voice  so  gentle,  —  the  sisters,  because 
no  one  could  arrange  their  hair  and  assist  at 


102  MAPLE  HILL. 

their  toilet  so  tastefully  as  the  graceful  Kitty, 
—  the  cook,  not  only  because  it  saved  her 
*  many  a  weary  foot's-length,  but  for  the  com- 
fort o'  seein'  how  like  a  born  lady  she'd  stoop 
to  assist  the  poor  bodies  benathe  her.'  At  any 
rate,  Kitty  found  business  enough  to  weary 
many  a  foot  less  light,  and  to  discourage  many 
a  heart  less  kind  and  willing  than  hers.  She 
ran  on  all  her  sisters'  errands,  carrying  flowers, 
books,  and  notes  to  their  friends, '  because  she 
did  it  so  prettily,  and  servants  were  so  stupid* 
She  was  a  school-girl,  and  if  ever  she  ventured 
to  hint  that  her  lessons  must  be  learned,  they 
said,  '  Oh,  what  of  that,  Kitty  ?  You  are  so 
smart  that  you  can  do  all  that  after  we  are 
gone,  in  the  evening.' 

"  And  so  she  did,  for  many  a  long  winter's 
night  studying  and  sleeping  alternately  in  her 
chair,  and  keeping  a  light  and  a  warm  fire  for 
the  revelers.  And  then  when  they  were  warm 
enough  to  speak,  Kitty  darling  must  ^ull  down 
all  the  finery  she  had  so  lately  erected,  and 


BITTER  WORDS.  103 

listen,  for  her  reward,  to  an  account  of  the 
splendid  assembly,  and  to  promises  of  going 
with  them  in  two  or  three  years. 

utT  wonder  what  you'll  do  for  a  dressing- 
maid  thenf  Kitty  would  ask  with  an  arch 
smile  ;  and  then,  with  a  fond  kiss  from  each, 
she  would  slip  off  to  her  mother's  disturbed 
bed,  there  to  dream  of  fractions,  verbs,  arti- 
ficial flowers,  and  cameo  bracelets,  all  en- 
gulfed for  ever  in  her  mother's  gruel  por- 
ringer ! 

"  The  girls  had  long  been  prevented  from  re- 
ciprocating the  invitations  of  their  gay  friends, 
and  as  the  winter  wore  away  and  no  alarming 
symptoms  appeared  in  the  case  of  their  moth- 
er, they  decided  to  give  a  little  entertainment. 
No  objections  were  made  by  the  invalid,  for 
she  felt  that  the  house  had  been  made  gloomy 
long  months  by  her  illness,  and  was  willing  to 
endure  some  annoyance,  could  she  but  make 
her  fatherless  children  happy. 

"  When  the  evening  arrived  and  the  all 


104  MAPLE  HILL. 

important  work  of  the  toilet  began,  it  was 
found  out  that  the  florist  had  failed  to  send 
the  bouquets.  No  flowers  for  their  hair, — 
what  could  they  possibly  do  !  The  servants 
were  too  busy  to  be   spared,  so   of  course 

*  Kitty  would  have  to  go.'  And  she  went, 
not  very  cheerfully,  we  must  say.  For  once 
a  tear  came  to  her  eye,  as  she  looked  out 
into  the  darkening  street,  upon  the  cold  snowy 
pavement. 

" 6  Can't  you  do  without  them  ? '  she  asked. 

"'Do  without  them?    Why,  Kitty,  that  does 

not  sound  like  you,'  replied  one  of  her  sisters. 

" '  Well,  girls,  the  truth  is,'  exclaimed  Kitty, 

*  I  am  so  weary  that  I  can  hardly  stand  now  ; 
I'm  sure  you  do  not  realize  how  much  I  have 
done  to-day,  or  you  would  not  ask  me  to  go.' 

"  The  sisters  both  looked  wounded  at  this  un- 
expected remark,  and  the  eldest  said  reproach- 
fully, '  Well,  we  can  go  without  the  flowers,  if 
you  are  so  disobliging.9  Her  better  nature 
rebuked  her  before  the  words  were  off  her 


BITTER  WORDS.  105 

lips,  but  she  was  vexed  and  would  not  say 
so. 

" '  Here  then,  Kitty/  said  the  second  one^ 
'  is  my  pearl  flower  for  your  hair,  —  you  see 
I  am  willing  to  gratify  you  —  even  when  you 
are  selfish.' 

"  Kitty  burst  into  tears,  and  darted  from 
the  room.  She  knew  that  she  was  not  selfish. 
and  the  accusation  went  like  an  arrow  to  her 
heart.  Her  sisters,  too,  felt  unhappy  ;  not  so 
much  that  they  must  dress  without  the  flowers, 
as  because  they  knew  they  had  been  unjust 
and  cruel  to  the  being  whom,  of  all  others  on 
earth,  they  most  tenderly  loved.  One  bade 
the  other  go  to  Kitty's  room  and  tell  her  they 
did  not  mean  what  they  had  said,  but  neither 
went  for  some  time,  and  then  she  was  not 
there.  What  was  their  surprise,  in  less  than 
an  hour,  to  see  her  enter  their  chamber  with 
swollen  eyes,  but  smiling  lips,  bearing  the 
flowers  !  With  shame,  they  thanked  the  wea- 
ry child,  but  in  the  excitement  and  bustle,  they 


106  MAPLE  HILL. 

did  not  kiss  her,  they  did  not  ask  pardon  for 
their  heartless  cruelty.  Oh,  how  does  worldly 
vanity  harden  the  heart  of  the  naturally  good 
and  loving ! 

"  The  guests  were  gone,  the  lights  extin« 
guished,  and  the  weary  girls,  after  assuring 
themselves  that  their  mother  had  been  in  no 
way  injured  by  the  noise,  sought  their  pillows, 
saying,  as  they  kissed  her  tenderly,  *  Good- 
night, dear  Mother,  Kitty  will  be  up  in  a 
moment.' 

"  Long  after  all  save  the  sick  one  had  been 
lost  in  slumber,  a  ringing  from  her  chamber 
brought  down  her  daughters.  *  Why,  my  chil- 
dren, where  can  Kitty  be  ?  It  is  more  than 
an  hour  since  you  left  me,  and  no  sound  have 
I  heard  in  the  house.'  The  servants  were 
roused,  and  all  descending  together  sought  the 
child.  Then  the  sisters  remembered  that  they 
saw  nothing  of  her  after  the  guests  began  to 
arrive.  On  reaching  the  front  basement,  there 
in  the  cold  and  darkness  lay  Kitty,  robed  only 


BITTER  WORDS.  107 

in  a  thin  muslin,  sleeping  the  heavy  deep  slum- 
ber of  one  over-wearied  and  ill.  They  strove 
to  rouse  her,  but  could  only  get  her  enough 
awake  to  say, '  Oh,  don't,  don't,  —  I'm  so  weary 
that  I  can  not  go  !  Oh,  I've  tried,  but  can  not 
walk,  —  wait  till  our  own  flowers  grow  !  I  am 
not  selfish,  do  not  call  me  so,  —  I  am  sick  and 
tired,  but  not  selfish.  Oh,  I'm  so  weary,  let 
me  sleep,  sisters  ! ' 

"  The  girls  wept  bitterly  as  poor  fond  Nora 
with  loud  lamentations  carried  the  sick  child 
up-stairs  in  her  arms.  The  three  watched 
over  her,  all  wearied  as  they  were,  while  an- 
other strove  to  calm  the  mother's  fears.  No 
effort  could  avail  to  warm  the  shivering  form 
until  morning  began  to  break.  Then  the  cold, 
blue  lip  and  cheek  changed  their  hue  to  burn- 
ing red.  Kitty  knew  no  one  around  her,  an- 
swered none  of  their  questions,  but  only  mur- 
mured, *  No,  no !  Ask  my  mother  if  I  have 
been  an  unfeeling,  selfish  child ! '  In  the 
morning,  while  the  doctor  was  in  the  sick-room, 
the  florist  called  to  apologize  for  his  young 


108  MAPLE  HILL. 

man's  carelessness.  '  I  hope,'  he  said,  <  the 
young  lady  did  not  take  cold  last  night.  I 
noticed  that  while  at  the  store  waiting  for  the 
bouquets  she  tried  to  dry  her  feet  ;  but  her 
shoes  were  full  of  snow  and  water.  She  seemed 
very  weary  and  asked  for  a  seat,  poor  child ! 
I  felt  troubled  lest  she  might  be  made  ill 
through  our  neglect,  and  could  not  rest  till 
I  had  inquired. ' 

"  Kitty  was  indeed  very  ill,  but  conscience 
told  her  sisters  in  words  not  to  be  misunder- 
stood that  others  than  he  were  to  blame  ;  that 
their  heartlessness  had  brought  on  the  fever 
which  might  consume  her  sweet  life  away. 

"  The  burning  heat  soon  seized  the  brain  of 
the  dear  child,  and  no  skill  had  power  to  allay 
it,  no  love  had  strength  to  awaken  her  to  a 
sense  of  her  condition.  She  still  moaned  pite- 
ously  in  her  troubled  dreams, l  Kiss  me,  sisters, 
and  say  you  will  forgive  me ;  then  I'll  go  out 
in  the  night  and  the  storm  and  bring  your 
flowers.  Oh,  how  cold  the  white  flowers  are  ; 
they  are  made  of  ice,  —  cold,  cold  !     The  red 


BITTER  WORDS.  109 

flowers  burn  my  fingers,  but  I  will  bring  them ! 
I  am  not  selfish,  am  I,  Mother  ?     Oh  dear ! ' 

"  Kitty  died,  and  what  then  were  balls  and 
parties  and  tinsel  and  flowers  to  her  agonized 
sisters !  They  wept  bitterly  over  her  coffin ; 
but  the  flowers  with  which  their  love  had  filled 
it,  and  which  should  have  been  messengers  of 
hope  and  peace,  were  as  daggers  to  their 
hearts,  reminding  them  of  the  night  she  went 
sick  and  weary  to  procure  the  like  to  deck 
them  for  the  revel.  They  robed  themselves 
in  deepest  weeds  of  woe;  they  extolled  her 
virtues ;  they  enshrined  her  image  in  their 
hearts ;  they  erected  a  costly  monument  to 
her  memory ;  but  they  could  never  satisfy 
their  own  hearts,  never  repay  poor,  sweet 
Kitty  for  those  hours  of  sorrow,  nor  take 
back  again  those  bitter  words. 

"Dear,  dear  children,"  said  Aunt  Lucy, 
"  keep  your  hearts  pure  from  such  sins  tow- 
ards each  other ;  for  you  little  know  at  what 


110  MAPLE  HILL. 

time  the  Son  of  man  will  call  for  you  or  for 
those  with  whom  you  associate  from  day  to 
day.  If  either  of  you  has  wronged  or  wound- 
ed any  person,  go  at  once  and  ask  forgiveness, 
so  that  there  will  be  nothing  of  that  kind  left 
undone,  should  death  come  suddenly.  If  God 
spares  you  to  old  age  you  will  be  better  men 
and  women  for  thus  crucifying  your  pride  now. 
Pray  that  God  will  help  you  to  set  a  watch 
on  your  lips  that  you  sin  not  with  your  tongue. 
The  lips  are  the  door  of  the  heart ;  so  all  can 
tell  what  is  within,  by  what  passes  through 
them.  Now  good-night,  away  to  your  prayers 
and  your  slumbers.    God  bless  you,  my  dar- 


"  Shall  you  tell  us  a  Sunday -night  story, 
Auntie  ? "  asked  Jennie. 

"  Perhaps  I  will ;  but  now,  dears,  go  to  bed, 
and  I  will  tell  you  in  the  morning  what  seems 
best  to  be  done  to-morrow  night." 

THE    END. 


GHOIGR 

Suriday-^cliool  BooI^s, 


GRANDMOTHER   MERWIN'S    HEIRESS.    Mrs.  M.  F.  Butts. 

2mo.     308  pp.     6  cuts.     $1  25. 

FRONTIER   AND   CITY.     Miss  A.  L.  Rouse.     l2mo.     294  pp. 

Cuts.     $1  25. 

THE  WHATSOEVER  TEN.  Minnie  E.  Kenney.  12mo.  295  pp. 
CUtS.     $1  25. 

JUDGE  HAVERSHAM'S  WILL,.  Miss  I.  T.  Hopkins.  12mo. 
11  pp.     4  cuts.     $1  25. 

The  young  hero  will  be  admired  for  his  sterling  manly  qualities. 

MARGIE  AT  THE  HARBOR-LIGHT.    Rev.  E.  A.  Rand.  12mo 

touts.     264  pp.     $1. 

CHANGING  PLACES;  or,  How  One  Boy  Climbed  Up  and 
mother  Slipped  Down.  Miss  C.  M.  Trowbridge.  12mo.  217  pp. 
puts.    Cloth,  90  cts. 

BERNIE'S  LIGHT.  Minnie  E.  Kenney.  l2mo.  272  pp.  4  cuts, 
loth,  $1  10. 

;    ARROW   HEAD   LIGHT.     Miss  I.  T.  Hopkins.     12mo.     366  pp. 

loth,  $1  25. 

MRS.  MORSE'S  GIRLS.  Minnie  E,  Kenney.  12mo.  282  pp. 
ioth,  $1. 

\   ROGER  DUNHAM'S  CHOICE.    Jennie  Harrison.    12mo.  270  pp. 

Soth,  $1. 


TALL    CHESTNUTS    OF    VANDYKE.        Miss  I.   T.   Hopki 
12m0.     395  pp.     5  CUtS.     $1  50. 

DUNCAN  KENNEDY'S  NEW  HOME.   Mrs.  L.  L.  Rouse.  12r 

324  pp.     4  cuts.     $1  25. 

HOPE  REED'S  UPPER  WINDOWS.     Howe  Benning.    12i 
304  pp.     4  cuts.     $1  25. 

DICK    LANGDON'S    CAREER.      Mrs.  S.  A.  F.  Herbert.      12r 
248  pp.    4  cuts.     $1. 

FROLIC  BOOKS.    Mrs.  M.  F.  Butts.    6  vols.  16mo.    $4  25  per  g 

FOXWOOD  BOYS  AT   SCHOOL ;  or,   More   Doings  of  t 
MoDonogli  Boys.    Mrs.  E.  P.  Allan.    12mo.    267  pp.    $1. 

HER  CHRISTMAS  AND  HER  EASTER.      Rev.  E.  A.  Rai 

12mo.     187  pp.     $1. 

HARRY'S  TRIP  TO  THE  ORIENT.    Rev.  Charles  S.  Newh; 
12mo.     344  pp.    22  cuts.     $1  50. 

JEAN  MACDONALD'S  WORK.     12mo.     384  pp.     6  cuts.     $1  i 

JUST  IN  TIME.    Mrs.  Reaney.    12mo.    374  pp.    4  cuts.    $1  25. 

URSULA'S   BEGINNINGS.     12mo.     296  pp.     4  cuts.     $1  25. 

HARD  TO  WIN.    Mrs.  G.  Cupples.    12mo.    158  pp.    4  cuts.     75  < 

THE  GOOD-TIMES  GIRLS.    Miss  I.  T.  Hopkins.    12mo.    472; 
6  cuts.     $1  50. 

HAMPERED.    Mrs.  A.  K.  Dunning.    12mo.    198  pp.    3  cuts.    90  < 

HONEST  WULLIE.  Mrs.  L.  L.  Rouse.  12mo.  316  pp.  5  cuts.  $1 

SEVENTEEN  AND  TWICE  SEVENTEEN.     Mrs.  A.  F.  B 
fensperger.    12mo.    320  pp.    4  cuts.    $1  25. 

VACATION    DAYS    AT    FOXWOOD.      Mrs.  E.  P.  Allan.    12r 
224  pp.     4  cuts.     $1. 


CLUNY    MACPHERSON.     Mrs.  Amelia  E.  Barr.    12mo.    311  pp. 

cuts.     $1  25. 

DAISY  SNOWFXAKE'S   SECRET.    Mrs.  G.  S.  Reaney.    12mo. 
3  pp.     6  cuts.     $1  25. 

FINDING  HER  PLACE.    Howe  Benning.    12mo.    368  pp.    5  cuts. 
.  50. 

UP  TO  THE  MARK.    Miss  I.  T.  Hopkins.    12mo.    372  pp.    4  cuts. 
.  50. 

Q,UIET  CORNERS.    Howe  Benning.    12mo.  373  pp.  4  cuts.   $150. 

TARRYPORT  SCHOOL-GIRLS.    A.  L.  Noble.    16mo.      272  pp. 
cuts.     $1. 

VICTORY   AT    LAST.     Miss  C.  M.  Trowbridge.     12mo.     232  pp. 

cuts.    $1. 

MADGE  MAR  LAND.    Laura  Francis.  12mo.  320  pp.  4  cuts.   $125. 

OPENING    PLAIN    PATHS.      Howe  Benning.      12mo.      336  pp. 
cuts.     $1  25. 

READY   AND   WILLING.     Miss  I.  T.  Hopkins.    12mo.    333  pp. 
cuts.    $1  25. 

THEO  AND  HUGO.    Mary  B.  Wyllys.    16mo.    320  pp.    4  cuts.    $1. 

THE  BLUE-BADGE  BOYS.    Miss  I.  T.  Hopkins.    16mo.    384  pp. 

cuts.     $1  25. 

FATHER'S  HOUSE.    Howe  Benning.    16mo.    278  pp.    4  cuts.    $1. 

NELLIE'S    NEW  YEAR.     Rev.  E.  A.  Rand.     16mo.     351  pp. 
cuts.    $1  10. 

CHRISTMAS  JACK.    Rev.  E.  A.  Rand.   16mo.   231  pp.    6  cuts.    $1. 


—  &  — 

Model   Librarirs. 

EACH  IN  A  CHESTNUT  CASE. 


MODEL  LIBRARY,   No.  I. 

For  older  scholars.    50  vols.    I6mo.    Net,  $20. 

MODEL  LIBRARY.  No.  2. 

For  intermediate  scholars.    18mo.    50  vols.    Net,  $15. 

MODEL  LIBRARY,  No.  3. 

For  older  scholars,    16mo.    50  vols.    Net,  $25. 

MODEL  LIBRARY,  No.  4. 

For  the  Infant  Class,    18mo.    50  vols.    Net,  $10. 

MODEL  LIBRARY,  No.  5. 

For  older  scholars.    25  vols.    16mo.    Net,  $15. 


STAR  LIBRARY. 

One  hundred  volumes.    18mo.    See  last  page. 

MISSIONARY  LIBRARY. 

Twelve  volumes.    Only  $10  Net.    See  next  page. 


Popular   Series, 


BOOKS  IN  STOUT  PAPER  COVERS. 


Those  marked  thus  (*)  are  illustrated. 


PRICE. 

Advice  to  Young  Christians 10 

Alice  Maitland's  Trial*-  -  - 10 

Alone  in  London.  $    Stretton 15 

Amusements,  in  the  Light  of  Rea- 
son.   Haydn  --- ---  15 

Amy's  New  Hornet    10 

An  Irish  Heart.  *  Temperance  Tales  10 
Annals  of  the  Poor.*    Legh  Rich- 
mond  - --  20 

Antonio  Bishallany 15 

Anxious  Inquirer.    James 15 

As  a  Medicine.  $    Temperance  Tales  10 

Atonement,  Discourses  on 10 

Bartimeus  of  the  Sandwich  Islands  5 

Basil,  or  Honesty  and  Industry  J-  -  10 

Benny* 5 

Bertha  Alston} -  10 

Bertie's  Fall* --  10 

Bessie  Kirkland* ---  10 

Bethlehem  and  her  Children  J  —  10 

Bible  Reader's  Help 20 

Blanche  Gamond* 10 

Blood  of  Jesus.    Reid ---  10 

Bloom  of  Youth*- - ---  10 

Bud  oi  Promise,  etc.* 10 

Buster  and  Baby  Jim* 10 

Caroline  Morin* 5 

Charles  Atwell,  etc.J 10 

Chinese  Coast,  etc.* 10 

Christianity's  Challenge.    Herrick 

Johnson,  D.  D.    16rno 25 

Christian  Queen,  etc.*  -  - —  10 

Christie's  Old  Organ.*    Walton  -  -  15 

Cinnamon-Isle  Boy * 15 

Concert  Programme* -  -  -  10 

Daniel,  Lite  of*» - ---  15 

David  Acheson,  etc.* 10 

Davidson,  E.,  etc.* 10 

Deserted  Heroine,  The} 5 

Dora  Felton's  Visit} 10 


PRIC 

Easy  Lessons} ] 

Ethel  Seymour} 1 

Eve  and  her  Daughters} \ 

Evidences  of  Divine  Revelation.  I 

Spencer j 

Fall  of  Jerusalem} 

Fisherman's  Boy} 

Frank  Merton's  Conquest} I 

Fritz  Hazell.}    Temperance  Tales-  - 

George  Wayland} 

Gospels  Written,  When  Were  Our. 

Tisehendorf - -* 

Grace  Abbott} 

Groggy  Harbor.}  Temperance  Tales 

Hammond,  Capt.  M.  M. 

Happy  Fireside} 

Harry  the  Whaler} 

Herbert:   True  Charity.}     Minis- 
tering Children 

Historical  Tales  for  Young  Protes- 
tants}---  

Holiday  Pictures. }    48  pictures  -  -  - 

Horace  Carleton's  Essay} 

How  to  Answer  Objections  to  Re- 
vealed Religion I 

Huguenots,  etc.,  The} - 

Jessica's  First  Prayer.}    Stretton  - 

Joe  and  Sally} I 

Joe  Blake's  Temptation} I 

John  the  Baptist 

Joseph  and  his  Brethren} 

Judson,  J.  C,  etc.} 

Kitty  Grafton.}   Temperance  Tales - 
Life  Preserver.}    Temperance  Tales 

Lilian} - 

Little  Bessie,  etc.} — 

Little  Captain .}    Peebles  - 

Little   Dot,  and   Angel's   Christ-  I 

mas.}    Walton- 1 

Little  Gold  Keys} $ 


Little  Henry  and  his  Bearer} 

Little  Meg's  Children.!    Stretton- 

Little  Robbie.  }    Nellie  Grahame  -  - 

Lizzie  Blake} 

Lucy  of  the  West,  etc.} 

Lullabies,  Ditties,  and  Tales} 

Man  of  his  Word.}  Stretton.  16mo 

Marie  Manning  and  Others} 

Martyr  People,  etc.} 

Mirage  of  Life} 

Morning  Glory,  etc.* 

My  Mother's  Gold  Ring.}  Temper- 
ance Tales 

Natural  Theology,  Youth's  Book 
of.}    Gallaudet 

"Never  Say  Die" - 

Night  and  a  Day,  A.}    Stretton-  -  - 

Oakfleld  Lodge} — 

Old  Kitchen  Fire.}  Colored  Fron- 
tispiece  

Old,  Old  Story.}    Sq.  18mo 

Onward.    16mo - 

Ore  Bank,  etc.} 

Ojfient 

Our  Father.  $    Col'd  Frontispiece - 

Our  Katie* 

Our  Sympathizing  High  Priest  -  -  - 

Out  in  the  Playground* 

Page,  Harlan 

Patience.*    Ministering  Children- 

Patoo.T.  H.,  etc* - --- 

Paul,  History  of  the  Apostle* 

Penny  Tract,  etc.* 

Perfect  Law,  The 

Persecutions  in  Scotland* 

Peters,  Anzonette  R. 

Pictures  and  Stories  for  Little 
Ones* 

Pilgrim  Boy* 

Pilgrim's  Progress.*    Part  1st 

Premium,  etc.,  The 

Promised  One,  The* 

Putnam  and  the  Wolf,  etc.  J 

Rachel's  Lilies* 

Rachel  White's  Fault* 

Rescued  Child.  The* 

Rescued  Lamb} 


Riverside  Farmhouse 15 

Rose,  Little  Comforter.}  Minister- 
ing Children -  -  15 

Ruth  and  Little  Jane.}    Minister- 
ing Children 10 

Sandy's  Faith.  J    16mo 15 

Scripture  Animals} 15 

Solomon,  Life  of} 5 

Songs  for  my  Children! 15 

Stage  Coach,  No.  l.J     Temperance 

Tales-  — - 10 

Stage  Coach,  No.  2.}     Temperance 

Tales --  10 

Stories  for  SundayJ 20 

Stories  for  the  Little  Ones} 10 

Strangers  in  Greenland} 10 

Sweet  Story  of  Old}- 10 

Talks  and  Stories  about  Prayer  -  -  15 

Talks  on  Home  Life.    16mo  ---*--  15 

Taylor,  J.  E.  J.,  etc} ---  10 

Temperance  Meeting  in   Tatter- 
town.}    Temperance  Tales 10 

Three  Gifts 10 

Too  Fast  and  Too  Far.}    Temper- 
ance Tales 10 

Vandeleur,  Major  A. 10 

Vicars,  Hedley - - 10 

Wanderer,  The,  etc.} 10 

Well    Enough    for   the  Vulgar.} 

Temperance  Tales  - 10 

Whiter  Than  Snow,  and  Good  An- 
gels*  ----  10 

White  Water-Lily,  The  J 5 

Will  Thornton* —  5 

Winnie's  Temptation,  etc.  * 10 

Wirt,  A.  C,  etc.*- 10 

Wise,  J.,  etc.*--  • - 10 

Workman,  The.    J.  P.  Thompson, 

D.  d. 25 


Young  Hop-Pickerst 10 


The  "Temperance  Tales."  12  vol- 
umes in  a  box* ---$125 

The  "Ministering  Children."  4 
volumes  in  a  wrapper* 50 


Wall   Rolls. 

THOUGHTS  FOR  THE  DAY.  A  Wall  Roll  with  Scriptural  and- 
poetical  selections  in  harmony  with  a  leading  thought  for  each  day.  "With 
suggested  Bible  readiugs  lor  the  year.  Mounted  on  walnut  roller.  32  pp. 
75  cts. 


liIGHT  ON  MFE'S  PATH.  A  selection  of  passages  for  every  day 
i  the  month,  with  a  leading  text.  Elegant,  large  type,  and  black  walnut 
iller.    32  pp.    75  cts. 

MORNING  SUNBEAMS.  Selected  by  Mrs.  Prentiss  for  daily  use. 
arge  Roll  same  as  the  above.  Large,  clear  type,  easy  to  read  across  the 
torn.    32  pp.    75  cts. 

PICTORIAL  WAJjIj  ROLIi.  A  choice  full-page  picture  on  each 
ige,  with  a  few  lines  of  suggestive  explanation.  Pictures  tell  a  whole 
ory  without  a  word.  Mounted  on  walnut  roller.  Size,  13  by  20  inches. 
!  pp.    75  cts. 


Tead  me  to  the  rock  that  ? 
higher  than  1.  pm.«,:2. 

Who  is  a  rock  save  our 

God?      Psa.  18:31. 

For  thou  hast  been  a 
shelter  for  me,  and  a  strong 
tower  from  the  enemy. 

Psa.  61: 3. 

For  thou  hast  been  a 
strength  to  the  needy  in  his 
distress,  a  refuge  from  the 
storm,  a  shadow  from  the 

heat.      Isa.  25:4. 

And  the  peace  of  God, 
which  passeth  all  under- 
standing, shall  keep  your 
hearts  and  minds  through 
[Christ  Jesus,  m.  *.7.       .  J 


10 

BiblaB.  Helps. 

Dictionary  of  the  Bible.  Revised  edition.  Over  200,000  sol', 
360  illustrations,  18  maps.  720  pp.  8vo.  Cloth,  $2;  sheep,  $2  50;  morocct 
$3  50;   Levant,  $5. 

Crnden's  Concordance.    561pp.    8vo.    Cloth,  $1;  sheep,  $2  25. 

Bible  Text-Book.  A  topical  concordance,  with  maps,  index© 
chronologies,  and  tables  of  various  kinds.    232  pp.    12mo.    Cloth,  90  cts.  \ 

Hanim's  Life  of  Christ.     20  engravings.     Cloth,  $1  50. 

Stalker's  Life  of  Paul.    With  map.    Cloth,  60  cts. 

Stalker's  Life  of  Christ.     Cloth,  60  cts. 

Schaff's    Throngh   Bible    Lands.     31  maps  and  illustration! 

Cloth,  $2  25. 

Studies  in  Mark's  Gospel.     Rev.  C.  S.  Robinson,  D.  D.     12m< 

Cloth,  $1  25;  paper,  50  cts. 

From  Samuel  to  Solomon.      Rev.  C.  S.  Robinson,  D.  D.      12m< 

Cloth,  $1  25;  paper,  50  cts. 

Barrows'  Sacred  Geography.     Cloth,  $2  25. 
Barrows'  Companion  to  the  Bible.    Cloth,  $1  75. 

Gage's    Studies    in    Bible    Lands.      60   illustrations,  12  man 

Cloth,  $1  25. 

Howson's   Scenes  from    the    Life  of  St.  Paul.     Illustrate! 

Cloth,  $1. 

Gosse's  Sacred  Streams.    44  engravings  and  a  map.    Cloth,  $1  2, 

Schauffler's    Meditations  on    the    Last    Days    of    Christ 

Cloth,  $1  50. 

Locke's  Commonplace-Book  of  the  Holy  Bible.    Cloth,  $1 

Bible  Reader's  Help.  With  two  maps.  A  good  book  for  Sabbatl 
schools,  as  a  small  Bible  Dictionary.    Cloth,  40  cts. ;  paper,  20  cts. 

Pocket  Concordance.  A  new  compilation.  Cloth,  60  cts.;  m< 
rocco,  limp,  $1  25  Net. 

Bible  Atlas  and  Gazetteer.  Super-royal  octavo.  32  pp.  Si 
fine  large  maps,  a  full  list  of  all  the  geographical  names  in  Scripture,  wf 
a  valuable  series  of  tables.    Cloth,  $1  25. 


—  11  — 
Teagher's  BiBLaE.S. 

NEW  MINION  "  TYPE,  6%  inches  long,  5  ins.  wide,  V/A  ins. 
thick.  References  between  the  verses.  This  is  the  book  so 
highly  recommended  by  Ralph  "Wells,  of  New  "York, 
and.  others* 

Morocco,  leather-lined,  round  corners,  gilt  edges - $3  50 

For  Text-Book  Edition,  order  No.  184. 

For  Concordance  Edition,  order  No.  214. 
Levant,  kid-lined,  silk-sewed,  round  corners,  red  under  gold 

edges,  with  pocket - --- -- 5  00 

For  Text-Book  Edition,  order  No.  185. 

For  Concordance  Edition,  order  No.  215. 

LARGE  PRINT "  EDITION,  1%  ins.  long,  5#  ins.  wide,  1# 
ins.  thick.    References  in  centre  of  page. 

Turkey  morocco,  limp  or  stiff 4  00 

Levant  morocco,  kid-lined,  full-flexible,  silk-sewed,  protecting 

edges,  round  corners,  with  pocket --  10  00 

Same  as  above,  but  containing  the  Eible  Text-Book  and  Con- 
cordance, together  with  all  the  other  helps  found  in  both 
editions.    No.  227 - - 1100 

ARGE  PAPER  (Wide  Margin;  EDITION,  8^  ins.  long, 
6  ins.  wide,  1%  ins.  thick.  References  in  centre  of  page.  With 
inch  margin  and  24  blank  pages  for  notes,  Scripture  Index,  New 
Maps,  etc. 

Levant  morocco,  kid-lined,  full-flexible,  silk-sewed,  protecting 

edges,  round  corners,  with  pocket.    No.  199 - 11  00 

ARGE  PAPER  (Wide  Margin)  EDITION.  The  above  book, 
with  Bible  Text-Book  instead  of  the  Scripture  Index,  everything 
else  being  the  same. 

Levant  morocco,  kid-lined,  silk-sewed,  protecting  edges,  with 

pocket,  round  corners.    No.  201 12  00 

IBLE  STUDENT'S  EDITIONS.  Full-faced  Bourgeois  type, 
three  sizes  larger  than  Bagster's  largest  8vo,  with  Bible  Student's 
Manual,  comprising  Chronological  Index,  Maps,  Charts,  Harmo- 
nies, etc.    8%  ins.  long,  6  ins.  wide,  1%  thick. 

Levant  morocco,  or  Sealskin,  kid-lined,  silk-sewed,  full-flexible, 

with  pocket,  round  corners.    Order  No.  350 10  00 

The  same  book  containing  in  addition  to  the  above  matter 

our  revised  Bible  Text-Book.    Order  No.  355 11  00 


12  

BiBLaR.8  jf  TRSTAMRNTa 

FAMILY  BIBL.E,  with  Notes  and  Instructions.  Size,  ll| 
by  9%,  and  3  inches  thick.  This  valuable  edition  of  the  Bible  has  been  issuei 
in  a  new  form,  making  it  a  most  convenient  book  for  family  use. 

The  Notes  and  Explanations  are  concise,  and  at  the  same  time  give  tni 
results  of  the  best  study;  and  the  authors  had  no  theory  to  establish,  bti 
simply  to  show  what  is  the  mind  of  the  Spirit  regarding  the  Word. 

It  contains  Explanatory  Notes  and  Practical  Instructions  by  Rev.  Justil 
Edwards,  D.  D.,  revised  by  Prof.  E.  P.  Barrows. 

Roan,  panelled  sides,  gold  stamp,  sprinkled  or  marbled  edge $6  I 

Persian  morocco,  panelled  sides,  gilt  edge- 7  5 

Turkey         "  "  "       12  0 

Levant         "      bevelled  boards,  tooled  sides,  sewed  full- flexible  14  0 

A  HEW  CHEAP  EDITION.  Prepared  expressly  for  this  valuabl 
work  at  a  price  that  will  come  within  the  reach  of  all.  It  contains,  beside 
the  Harmony  of  the  Gospels,  Chronology,  Maps,  Tables  of  Weights  am 
Measures,  and  Family  Record,  eight  elegant  illustrations,  and  is  strongl, 
bound. 

Roan,  blank  side  stamp,  sprinkled  edge- $4  0 

NEW  TESTAMENT  AND  PSAI.MS.  These  portions  of  th 
Family  Bible,  with  Notes,  Maps,  Tables,  etc.,  are  published  separately  in  s 
handsome  royal  octavo  volume  of  524  pp.    Size,  1%  by  11  ins.,  yA  in.  thick. 

Cloth,  $1  75;  cloth  gilt,  $2  50;  sheep,  $3. 

THE  POCKET  BIBLE.  Three  volumes  with  Notes,  Instructions 
Maps,  and  Tables.  2,676  pp.  Small  l2mo.  Size,  per  set,  4^  ins.  wide,  6} 
ins.  long,  3%  ins.  thick.  This  edition  contains  all  the  notes  and  instruction 
that  are  in  the  large  edition,  and  will  do  much  to  popularize  and  increase 
the  usefulness  of  this  invaluable  woi'k. 

Three  volumes,  cloth,  $3. 

THE  POCKET  TESTAMENT.  Over  175,000  circulated.  Th. 
New  Testament  is  also  printed  in  a  neat  and  complete  small  12mo  edition 
for  the  use  of  young  people,  Sabbath-schools,  etc.  With  Maps,  Harmony  o 
the  Gospels,  Chronologies,  etc.    810  pp.    Size,  5  by  7  inches. 

Cloth,  $1;  cloth  gilt,  $1  40:  sheep,  $1  50. 


13 


Sunday-School  Cards. 

).  CTS. 

L.ABC  Picture  Cards.    28  in  a  packet.    4^  by  3^  inches 20 

,    A  Card  of  the  Ten  Commandments.    In  clear  type.     b% 

hj3%  ins.  - --- --- 1 

Alphabet   Card.     With  Lord's  Prayer  and  Commandments  in 
verse.    hy2  by  3%  ins. -- --- 1 

t.  Bible  Cards.  96  in  a  packet,  each  with  a  short  text  and  col- 
ored printed  border.    2^byl^ins. -- 15 

..  Bible  Flowers.  A  choice  packet  of  the  flowers  of  the  Holy  Land, 
painted  from  nature  by  Miss  Bird.  12  cards  with  different  texts. 
3  by  5  ins. - 20 

».  Bible  Words.    144  cards  in  bright  colors,  with  different  texts-  -  -    25 

t.  Children  of  the  Year.  12  fine  cards  with  easel  backs  to 
stand  upon  table,  with  ideal  heads,  by  Miss  Lathbury,  illustra- 
ting the  seasons,  with  carefully  selected  texts.    4%;  by  hy2  ins.  -  -    25 

».  Faithful  Sayings.   12  floral  cards  with  texts.    Net 12 

i.  Floral  Texts,  B.    96  cards.    2%  by  1%  ins. 20 

).  Floral  Texts,  C.    144  cards.    1#  by  1%  ins - 25 

i.  Gems    from   the    Psalms.     A  selection  of  72  texts  from  the 

Psalms,  in  colors.    3%  by  2%  ins--- - • 20 

>.  Gift  Cards  for  Children.    In  colors,  on  nice  cardboard.     72 

inapacket.    4  by  2^  ins. - - 20 

r.  Gospel  Words.  12  floral  cards,  with  choice  texts,  all  bearing 
the ''Good  News."    2%  by  4^  ins. 15 

.  Gracions  Invitations.  Floral  cards,  copyright  designs.  12 
cards,  with  different  texts.    4%  by  3%  ins.    Net 12 

S.  Guiding  Words.    Floral  cards,  designed  by  a  new  artist.    12 

cards,  12  texts.    4^  by  3%  ins.    Net 12 

t.  Helps  by  the  Way.  Designs  by  Baroness  de  Votjga.  Ele- 
gantly printed.  Each  card  has  two  texts,  carefully  selected.  12 
cards,  4 by  6 ins.    24texts.    Net 15 


14:   

33.  High-way  and  Hedge  Cards.    36  in  a  pack.    2%  by  1%  ins.- 

66.  Jewels.     Floral  cards  with  heads  similar  to  No.  65.    12  cards,  3 

by  4%  ins.    12  texts.    Net ] 

3.  Xiittle  Gems  from  the  Mine.  (Book  Makes.)  12  original 
water  color  designs,  on  finest  cardboard,  with  charming  texts. 
3%  by  l^ins.-- - 1 

65.  Manna  for  the  Day.  12  floral  cords  with  heads  of  children, 
from  designs  by  Miss  Lathbury.  12  cards,  3  by  4%  ins.  12 
texts.    Net - - 1 

5.  Mottoes  for  the  Memory  from  Holy  Writ.  A  bright, 
sparkling,  and  beautiful  packet  of  12  cards.    3^  by  2^4  ins. 3 

4:1.  "Overcomes"  of  the  Bible.    Charming  floral  designs,  with 

texts  as  indicated  by  the  title.    12  cards,  12  texts.    5%  by  3  ins.  -    J 

4:.  Photograph  Reward  Cards.  2  packs  of  12  cards  each.  A 
nice  picture,  a  text,  and  verses  on  each  card.  4  by  2%  ins.  Per 
pack - - 2 

38.  Pictnre    Cards    for    Children.     Neatly  enveloped.     In  two 

packets,  each  54  large  cards.    5 }£  by  3%  ins.    Per  pack J 

37.  Pocket  Cards.    72  in  a  packet.    4  by  2^  ins. 5 

30.  Precious   Truths.     12  of  the  finest  floral  cards  ever  issued. 

Suited  for  older  scholars.    4%  by  Z%  ins.  -  -  - i 

34:.  Questions    and   Answers.     A  packet  of  80  cards,  questions 

with  Bible  answers.    3by2ins. 1 

Red  and  Blue  Tickets.    125  on  a  sheet.    Per  sheet 1 

49.  Sure    Promises    from    God's    Word.      72  cards,  printed  in 

colors,  with  texts S 

75.  Texts  and  Symbols.  A  series  of  beautifully  designed  cards  in 
10  colors  and  gold,  with  texts  and  fitting  symbols.  Fitted  with 
easel  backs  to  stand  upon  table.    12  cards,  4%  by  5%  ins. -    2 

70.  Texts  for  the  Infant  Class.    200  cards.    1%  by  %  ins.    Net  -    1 

61.  Thanksgivings.     1st  Series.     Elegant  floral  cards  with  texts. 

24  cards,  24  texts.    3%  by  2%  ins. - 1 

63.  Thanksgivings.    2d  Series.    Same  general  style  as  1st  series, 

but  different  designs  and  texts.    24  cards,  24  texts 1 

39.  Thirty-six  Picture  Cards  of  the  Life  of  Christ.    With 

a  colored  border  and  a  nice  engraving,  followed  by  Scripture  on 
one  side  and  a  beautiful  hymn  on  the  other.    by2  by  3%  ins. 2 


15  

Vest  Focfcet  Cards  for  Old  and  Young.  48  in  a  packet. 
3%  by  2%  ins. - - io 

Views  in  the  Holy  Land.  A  packet  of  12  cards  with  easel 
backs  to  stand  upon  table,  with  views  of  prominent  scenes  in 
Bible  Lands,  wild  flowers  from  the  same  country,  and  appro- 
priate texts.    4^  by  5%  ins. 25 

"Watchwords.  1st  Series.  Floral  designs,  with  appropriate  texts.   ■ 
24  cards,  24  texts.    3^  by  2^  ins. —    15 

Watchwords.  2d  Series.  Same  kind  of  card  as  No.  59,  but  all 
different.    24  cards,  24  texts.    3>iby2^ins 15 

"Whosoerers"  of  the  Bible.  12  cards  of  elegant  roses, 
with  texts.    4%  by  314  ins.    Net 12 

Words  in  Season.  A  packet  of  birds,  flowers,  and  texts  that 
cannot  fail  to  please  and  instruct.    12  cards.    3  by  4yz  ins. 15 

Words  of  Eternal  Life.  Most  elegant  floral  cards,  original  de- 
signs.   12  cards,  i2  texts.    5  by  ty^  ins.    Net--- 12 

Words  of  Faith.    12  fine  floral  cards,  with  different  texts 20 

Words  of  Grace.  1st  Series.  Charming  floral  designs.  12 
cards,  12  texts.    5  by  3%  ins. - - 20 

Words  of  Grace.  2d  Series.  Different  designs  from  1st  series. 
12  cards,  12  texts.    5  by  3%  ins. 20 

Words  of  Promise.  1st  Series.  Floral  cards,  something  en- 
tirely new  in  designs.    12  cards,  12  texts.    5  'by  zy%  ins. 20 

Words   of  Promise.     2d  Series.    Same  kind  as  1st  series,  but 

different  designs  and  texts.    12  cards,  12  texts.    5  by  3^  ins.  -  -  -    20 

Words  of  Strength.  12  cards,  from  original  designs  by  Bar- 
clay, with  selections  from  Scripture.    5  by  3j^  ins.    Net 12 

Words  of  the  King.  A  packet  from  original  designs  with  fine 
flowers  in  twelve  colors,  special  attention  paid  to  the  selection  of 
texts.    12  cards,  12  texts.    4by6ins.    Net 15 

Words  of  the  Master.  Some  of  the  most  beautiful  flowers  of 
our  own  land,  painted  from  nature  by  Miss  Bird.  12  texts,  12 
cards  in  a  packet.    3  by  5  ins.-- 20 

Words  of  Trnth.  Vases  with  flowers  from  original  designs, 
with  texts.    12  texts,  12  cards.    5  by  4  ins.    Net 12 

Words  for  the  Weary  Ones.  Four  choice  cards,  beautifully 
printed  in  colors,  with  readings  from  Havergal  and  others. 
4%  by  1%  ins 25 


STAR   LIBRARY. 

— ♦ — 

A  new  and  attractive  Sunday-school  library  of 

One  hundred  16mo- Yolumes. 

Each  volume  beautifully  illustrated  and  strongly! 
bound  in  cloth,  with  gilt  back.  Over  15,000  pages, 
of  reading,  in  large,  legible  type, 

In  a  Handsome  Chestnut  Case. 

Every  Sunday-school,   before   looking   elsewhere, 
should  examine  this  large  set  of  excellent  books  whicl 
is  offered  at  an  extremely  low  price, 

ONLY  TWENTY  FIVE  DOLLARS,  NET. 


Hmeriean  Bract  Societq 


150  NASSAU  STREET,  NEW  YORK. 
BOSTON,  54  Bromfield  Street. 

PHILADELPHIA,  1512  Chestnut  Street. 
ROCHESTER,  93  State  Street. 
CHICAGO,  122  Wabash  Avenue. 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  735  Market  Street. 


^7M 


EDGECOMBE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY 

TARBDR-O,  N.  C. 


1 .  Books  may  not  be  kept  longer  than  two 
weeks  without  renewal. 

2  A  fine  of  five  cents  a  day  shall  be  paid 
on  each  book  which  is  not  returned  according 
to  the  above  rule.  No  book  shall  be  issued  to 
any  person  incurring  such  fine,  until  it  has 
been  paid. 

3.  All  injuries  to  books  beyond  reasonable 
wear  and  all  losses  shall  be  made  good  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  librarian.  (Marking  a  book, 
even  with  a  lead  pencil,  turning  down  the 
corners  of  pages,  or  "dog-earing"  will  be  con- 
sidered an  injury.) 

4.  An  additional  fee  of  25  cents  will  be 
charged  on  overdue  books  for  which  it  is  neces- 
sary to  send  a  messenger. 


